Silver lining year 1
by annasan1100
Summary: Allyson Gilbert is a young girl, eager to learn, when she is told she's a witch. Started to attend Hogwarts in 1991, she encounters many secrets beginning with a secret hidden in the bowels of the school. An OC story. Currently massive construction! Regular updates! ON HIATUS
1. Prologue

**A/N: For those of you who have been following this story since the beginning welcome back. Although there are a few scenes in the story that are going to change, I'm not planning on changing major things, although I will add a few scenes as well as this one.**

**Please enjoy Silver Lining and let me know what you all think!**

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**oOo**

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_**Prologue**_

'_Childhood is not from birth to a certain age; it's the Kingdom where nobody dies.'_

_Edna St. Vincent Millay_

**I**t was a clear morning, which on itself was a surprise in the crowded streets of London. The sun stood high in a cloudless sky while people wound around over the sidewalks. Amongst them trudged a young girl, walking at the hand of her mother. The girl scowled as her mother applied sunblock onto her pale forehead, leaving it milky-white and gleaming from, but the radiant smile growing onto her face betrayed she felt uncaring for the white stripes on her face.

A man, tall with dark hair and sunglasses on his nose, sneered, while placing an odd gentle hand on the mother's back, making him obviously the father. As they walked, the people around them seemed to unconsciously part away. The man was intimidating; his strut confident and his jaw set.

As the little family waved through the throng of people, the girl; she couldn't be older then eleven years old pointed at a small dilapidated alley; _'Charing Cross Road'_. Crossing the street, the little family found themselves in a forgotten part of London. The cobblestone street was deserted, the sun reflected of the murky shop windows contributed to the spooky feeling that befell over the silent street.

"Are you sure, Allyson?" Catherine Gilbert asked, an almost inaudible accent coating her voice.

"Professor McGonagall told us it was in the southern corner of London." Allyson said, no accent to be detected. An accent which better not be there with the amount of teachers and strict governesses she had in the past.

The man, Mikeal Gilbert, traced his finger over the band of his wristwatch before flitting his eyes over the abandoned properties. "I believe the woman did say something about a pub only our daughter could see." The doubt evident in his voice, but just as his daughter no accent could be heard.

Allyson nodded, slipping her hand out of her mother's hand and glanced through the street. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to find anything that seemed out of the ordinary. It took her a moment before she noticed a broken-down inn. The Leaky Cauldron stood awkwardly between an old second hand bookshop and a record shop.

"It's there," Allyson explained, pointing at the empty wall her parents could only see. Allyson on the other hand saw two dirty windows; through which she couldn't see anything. There was a sign hanging above the door with the name 'The leaky Cauldron' and it actually seemed to be leaking out of the bottom.

Taking her mother's hand, Allyson smiled, before pulling the older woman along. Allyson's mother, her hair falling in perfect curls, tightened her grip onto her daughter's hand, as she stepped through a wall and into an old grubby inn.

Her mother blinked tiredly, glancing around in awe, while Mikeal Gilbert merely massaged his jaw. His shoulders were tense, but other than that, the man showed no sign something was wrong.

Sunlight poured through the windows, making golden rectangles on the floor and illuminated small specs of dust floating through the space. The scent of alcohol strong and behind the bar stood a man, cleaning the cabins.

After a few minutes the strangeness was wearing off and Catherine started calm down a little. Allyson smiled sympathetically to her mother, before climbing up onto a stool and waved at the bartender.

"Excuse me," Allyson softly said, ignoring her father's sneer as he glared at a particular shabby spot in the corner. The man turned around; he was old and quite bald. As he took notice upon the young girl he smiled. With a small prickle she realised he was missing of his teeth.

"How can I help, little lady?"

"Um, how do I get to Diagon Alley?"

"Ah, Hogwarts, kid?" He asked, glancing at her parents huddled together as they were looking at a self-cleaning cloth, which was making circular movements over a table top.

Allyson nodded, shooting a fleeting glance towards her parents. "They're not used to much." She said in ways of explanation.

The bartender clucked his tongue before glancing at the girl again. "Muggle-born I take it?"

Allyson nodded again.

"Okay, follow me." The man said, drying his hands on a towel. Beckoning her parents, Allyson followed the bartender. They waved through the empty tables and chairs and out led them out through the back of the bar. They stepped out into a small stone courtyard, blocked by a huge cinderblock wall.

"You only need a wand." The bartender said, pulling out his wand and pointed it at the wall, before tapping at some bricks. "Three up and two across, remember that."

"Okay, thank you!" Allyson said, as she noticed the wall shudder. A moment later the bricks he tapped wiggled slightly and a small hole started to appear; growing wider and wider until the wall had completely moved aside and left the little group with the view on a very large archway.

The long winding alleyway was bustling with activity. Her mother chuckled softly as she noticed the strange clothing and her father gave a great suffering sigh. Owls flew past their heads and the large crowd of people created an indiscernible hum as they spoke to each other. Mikeal wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders, who smiled as she looked around the cobbled-street.

"Shall we go?" Allyson asked, as she stood on her tip-toes trying to get a view of the shops further down the alleyway. There were a few shops were children had their faces pressed up against the glass as things seemed to explode.

"Where to first?" Mikeal asked, pulling Allyson out of her reverie.

"The bank?" Allyson asked, glancing at the bookstore right in front of her. "The money here is different. Gringrotts; I think"

Allyson frowned, before taking out the Hogwarts' letter from her pocket. The Deputy Head mistress who had visited, Professor McGonagall, had explained the way money worked in the Wizarding world.

After fiddling through the envelope, she found the small little map, which Professor McGonagall had quickly scribbled down onto the back of her list of equipments.

"It's further down the street." She mumbled, before starting down the street.

Considering the crowded alley and the throng of people, it was difficult to navigate through the unfamiliar place. There were many odd stores and Allyson stopped more than once to glance at the window displays. There was an ice-cream shop where the ice appeared to be made by itself and a robe shop in which a pair of robes danced you right insight, in a way of speaking.

Gringrotts was huge and seemed to be quite out of place next to the obvious newer buildings around. It was an imposing snow-white multi-storied marble building, towering over the neighbouring shops.

Allyson ascended the stone lobby steps and slipped through the burnished bronze doors, before stepping into a small entrance Hall. The bank was silent, as it appeared most shoppers had yet to arrive or had already passed the bank. Allyson's father pulled his wallet out of his breast pocket and glanced at one of the tiny creatures behind the counters.

Allyson glanced at them in amazement. After setting up an account, her father being so haughty Allyson pretended she didn't know him, they headed off back onto the street.

As they passed the double doors, Allyson noticed golden letters below a golden crest; '_Fortius Quo Fidelius_'

"And what does it mean, love?" Her father asked, following his daughters eyes.

Cheeks turning pink, Allyson glowered at the tall man, while Catherine eased a non-existent wrinkle out of her long dress. A passenger gave them an amused look and seemed expectant of the question and Allyson glared at the man with a scowl.

"Allyson?"

"Fine," she sighed. "Fidelius means something along the lines of faithful or loyal. And Fortius means _strength_. So 'the more faithful, the stronger' or 'Strength through loyalty' but it might as well be 'loyalty makes us stronger'."

Mikeal smiled before sneering at the man who disappeared as quickly as possible out of sight.

"Okay," Catherine hissed, glowering at Allyson's father. "Before your father get's us killed by being a democratic political-incorrect-idiot, lets get your school supplies."

Smiling Allyson skipped through the street and started at the robe shop, deciding to get the most dire task out of the way first. The bell above the door chimed when she stepped inside and sighed softly when she noticed the long line in front of the stool.

When they were finally done, it was almost four o'clock in the afternoon. "We still have to get my books and my wand." Allyson said, stepping out of the robe shop again — the chime of the bell fading, as the door fell closed behind her.

"I think we have to split up." Allyson said, looking around the street. "I still need my books, my wand and my— potions supplies."

Mikeal Gilbert regarded his daughter shrewdly for a long moment, before shaking his head. "I suppose so, hand me your list, I'll look for potions supplies." He said looking very unpleased.

"How about that, mum?" Allyson said heartily amused.

"Going for a wand shouldn't take that long, I suppose." Catherine answered, absentmindedly running her fingers through her daughters hair. "And would I be terrible off; if I said you also wanted to browse through the books in that bookstore?"

The girl smiled. "I hoped I could."

Her father departing in the opposite direction, Catherine and Allyson Gilbert started down the street, before stopping in front of a shop which if she hadn't been looking for it would have gone unnoticed. It was shabby and the windows were just as dirty as those in the Leaky Cauldron had been.

_Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_

Smiling at the older woman; mother and daughter entered the shop. The doorbell chimed and Allyson felt her heartbeat elevate. The store was small, dusty and dimly lit. There were countless narrow boxes stacked high up, covered in a fast layer of dust. A small wooden counter stood behind, but otherwise the shop seemed vacant.

It took several minutes before the shopkeeper; a frail old man with blue grey eyes, appeared. He was only a few inches taller than Allyson, but it were his glassy eyes which shone with an alertness that surprised the young girl.

"Good afternoon," he said, his voice soft and even, his eyes bulging.

"Good afternoon, sir." Allyson answered. "I'm looking for a wand."

Mr Ollivander stepped around the counter, and stepped up to the young girl; his glassy eyes not blinking even once. "Muggle-born?" He asked, eyeing her appraisingly. Then in an instant it was gone again.

"Ah, yes." Allyson answered, nodding. "Allyson Gilbert, nice to make your acquaintance."

"Your wand arm?" He asked glancing at her right arm with a small crease between his eyebrows.

Allyson frowned, before holding out her right arm. "You mean if I am right or left handed?" she asked, as a tape measurer flew off the counter and began taking Allyson's measurements. Twisting her wrist, but without hurting her, the wand maker examined her the pale blue vein pulsing softly, before turning to search through a pile of wands. Meanwhile the measuring tape was measuring the space between her knee and her armpit, while her mother stared with slacked jaw.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of powerful magical substance," he began, the measure tape by now around Allyson's head. "We customarily use unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers and the heartstrings of dragons." The wand maker continued, before returning with a long box. "Chestnut wood and dragon heartstring, 13 inches."

Allyson delicately picked the wand up, testing the weight into her hand.

"Well, try it out!"

She gave the wand a blank look, before waving it. The wand shuddered, but did nothing else.

"No, no, not this one. Definitely not this one." Ollivander said, grabbing the wand he turned to fetch another one. Allyson gave her mother a dark look, who seemed to be heartedly amused.

"Cherry wood and unicorn tail, 11 inches. Very flexible." He whispered softly, offering Allyson another box.

Allyson reached forwards, but before she could even touch the smooth wood the wand maker snatched the box away. Returning to the counter the man started to mutter under his breath and Allyson realised this would take a long time.

Allyson took yet another wand and gave it a wave. The vase on the counter shattered with a loud crack and water dripped down the old worn wood. She was slowly starting to feel a bit desperate. What if that Deputy Headmistress made a mistake?

"We'll find one for you, don't worry, dear." Mr Ollivander explained with a kind smile, putting yet another wand back into its box. Allyson marvelled at how nothing seemed to bother the man. She had tried out at least a dozen wands and her eyelids started to droop.

"How come none of the wands work on me?" Allyson asked feeling slightly useless.

"The wand chooses the witch or wizard, Miss Gilbert, not the other way around." Mr Ollivander answered.

Allyson nodded, glanced at the broken vase and sighed. Catherine Gilbert stood up from her seat, and made her way over towards her daughter; placing a comforting hand on Allyson's shoulder.

"Perhaps—" the wand maker started, starting to rummage through his counter. "But it is very old, not one of the cores I usually use—" he muttered and Allyson gave another long look at her mother who shrugged in response.

"There it is." Mr Ollivander softly breathed. He turned an auburn coloured box in his hands. A thick layer of dust had accumulated on the lid and Allyson raised an eyebrow quizzically. How long had that one been here?

"I've had this in my possession for years." Mr Ollivander explained. "My own father has manufactured it and I wonder—"

He slowly opened the lid and Allyson peered inside. It was a dark greenish hue and instead of being complete smooth, like she had come to expect, it was rough at the edges and twisted into a cylindrical shape. Allyson slowly took it from the box. Upon her fingers touching the wand a warm sense of belonging travelled up her arm. She gasped.

"Mulberry wood withThunderbird tail feather, 11 inches. It's very flexible." The wand maker explained. "Performs well in transfigurations and very powerful." His eyes narrowed. "Yes, very powerful—"

Allyson nodded running her fingers over what would be her wand and smiled. "How much?"

"Seven galleons please."

It was a lot less crowded onto the main street, when Allyson and her mother stepped out onto the cobbled stones. Behind them, a long smokestack wafted from the inn, as twilight seeped over the London skyline.

"I still need my books," Allyson said hugging her wand against her chest as if it was a new born baby. Catherine clucked her tongue while glancing through the street.

"Yes, and I need your father, as he has the rest of our money." The woman answered.

As if on cue, her father emerged from the inn. His dark blond hair tousled and a small smile tugging at his lips. He was holding a cauldron in one hand and a bag filled with books in the other.

"Dad?" Allyson asked feeling slightly put-out when she glanced at the books.

Noticing his daughter's gaze, he shrugged. "It didn't look as if you would be ready anytime soon, love. It seemed more adequate this way."

Allyson stuck out her lower lip and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're so mean." She mumbled, before glancing at another odd clothes store. Except from the fashion — which she admitted was very odd — she could see lime green robes which lighted up when the lights in the shop window extinguished.

"Oh, Mikeal—" Catherine sighed, massaging her temple.

"They're about to close, Catherine." Mikeal sighed. "I took some books out that weren't on the list as well."

"What kind of books?" Allyson asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

"Some Hogwarts History book and some more advanced spell books, I thought you might like." Her father answered, wrapping an arm around Allyson's shoulders. "Listen kiddo, I know you like bookstores, but it was about to close."

Allyson sighed, giving the man a suspicious glare, before shrugging.

Smiling at his daughter he straightened his jacket. "I say we go somewhere to have dinner and call it a day."

The little family made their way to the Leaky Cauldron to join the Muggle shoppers of London.

_To be continued..._

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**A/N: While revising this story I realised I never added anything about Allyson before she left from platform nine-and-three-quart. Therefore I decided to add a small prologue as well as revising other chapters. Updates will be on Tuesday's and Thursday's and I'd love to hear people's thoughts. For those of you who have been following this story before: have I improved? Are the spelling errors gone? I hope so…**

**Either way I hope you enjoy this chapter and enjoy the rest of the updates. **

**Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling.**


	2. Chapter 1, Departure from london

**A/N: And here is the revised version of chapter one from Silver Lining. This chapter has been revised on 07/19/16. Please notify me when you spot any spellings errors or grammatical errors. Do comment and let me know what you all think.**

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**Chapter one, Departure from Platform 9¾**

**I**t was September the first of the year 1991. A warm breeze wafted over the crowded streets of London while the sun blazed on the heads of the population, daring to come outside. Small little puffs of stream pouring off of the heated asphalt and the cobbled stones leading towards the Entrance. Travellers outside, sunglasses balancing on their noses, sat back on their luggage waiting for their rides. Behind them Britain's major railway station stood proud. A huge clock, hanging above the stairs leading towards the Underground, glistened in the late summer-sun.

Although the air conditioners blared loudly, the heat had seeped inside the walls of the huge building, pressing down on its occupants. Allyson Gilbert, dressed in a simple shirt and a plain black skirt, was nervously pacing from one end to the other of the hall. Her bound hair swirling behind her, while her blue eyes gleamed in anger. The girl had been looking for platform 9¾ for the last twenty minutes, but so far no luck. She huffed impatiently. Allyson had been looking forward to getting on the Hogwarts Express and finding a quiet corner to try out her new spell work. Either way there had been no trace of the red engine, and she, nor her parents, had had any luck in finding it.

Her father, an imposing man with dark blond hair and brown eyes, went off to find a conductor, to never appear again. He had been sure from the beginning this had all been a bad joke and had been more than a little angry when his only daughter came down the stairs of their home clutching a yellowish letter to her chest.

Allyson huffed again, scanning the passengers walking by, hoping to see something _odd_. Anything odd, but so far she only saw tourists, huge camera's dangling around their necks, business people, wearing neat suits and students, dressed in the most colourful dresses and shorts, waiting to be picked up to go to college or university.

"Calm yourself, love. We came early, the train won't depart for another hour." Allyson's mother, a slightly tanned woman with dark brown hair, said. Her extravagant appearance seemed odd against the pale walls from the station. Pulling her daughter to the side, until they were both leaning against a wall, near platform nine, she ruffled the young girl's hair.

Allyson sighed. "I know mum, but wouldn't it be easier to have travelled with the other new students as the Deputy head had offered?'' the girl softly answered nervously.

Her mother chuckled. Allyson flushed slightly; they both knew, that Allyson didn't care much for the company of others her age. A habit from being an outcast for so long, she supposed. It had been such a revelation when Deputy head McGonagall came over to explain the basics of being a witch. And because of her magical blood, the girl was offered a place in the Magical school: Hogwarts.

Her parents were shocked, but not even that surprised. She had been able to do the strangest things from an early age on, and being labeled as a witch explained a lot. Either way, the idea of shipping their daughter; their only child, off to a boarding school didn't sit well with them.

"What time is it, mum?'' Allyson asked, leaning against the metal of their trolley. Pulling her ticket out, she glanced at it for the hundredth time. What kind of moron numbers platforms in quarters?

"Half past ten," the woman answered, her eyebrows scrunched together into a frown. "Your father should have been back by now." She continued, standing on her tip-toes staring at the crowd, to locate Allyson's stubborn father.

The eleven-year-old bit down onto her lower-lip, pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and sat down onto her trolley. Wriggling her toes into her shoes the girl folded and unfolded her hands onto the rhythm of footsteps passing by. Magical folks should have been easy to spot. When she had been in the Wizarding shopping area, Diagon Alley, they had all been dressed in long robes. Many woman wore strange hats and even man wore strange headgear, Allyson had never seen before. They had odd customs; looking like aristocrats nearly a century out of date. Allyson's eyes flitted over the heads of the many travellers, but again none stood out. She sighed tiredly, while pushing the ticket back into the pocket of her skirt.

"Sweetie, watch the luggage trolley. I'm going to find that father of yours." Catherine Gilbert quipped.

Her mother was immediately swallowed by the sea of people. She was beautiful, her dark hair practically danced over her back. Pursing her lips, Allyson glanced at her retreating back until she could no longer make her mother out. She had always loved her mother's tanned skin. It was lively and always gave her a warm appearance, which was in contradiction of her own. Allyson's skin was pale, and seemed to glow whenever the sun rays fell onto it. The only _sign_ of life, as she used to say when the mood would take her, were the slight blushes adorning her cheeks.

Allyson gave a nervous glance at her wristwatch. A quarter to eleven. Frowning, she pushed a lock of hair, the one she had cut off as a child and had been bothering her ever since, behind her ear. Pulling her backpack from the trolley, she looked for '_Hogwarts; A History_', in hopes to find the way to the obviously hidden platform 9¾.

"There we are, boy. Platform 9 - Platform 10. Your platform should've been in between, but I think it has yet to be built.'' A voice behind her said nastily. Allyson's eyes widened, before she turned around swiftly.

Coming up from the Station's Entrance, stood a boy with messy black hair. His clothes were at least two sized to large and even from the distance, Allyson noticed his glasses were held together with adhesive tape. Next to him, smiling evilly, stood a big beefy man, with hardly any neck and a large moustache. Clapping his hands together in obvious enjoyment, which made Allyson's blood boil, he leaned closer to the boy. Allyson couldn't hear what he said, but the boy stepped back and looked around the crowd with a worried expression on his face.

"Well, have fun at school!'' The beefy man loudly exclaimed, before letting the trolley go, and turning away. Just before he reached the exit, he turned and gave the boy, no older than twelve, a mocking wave. The hysterical laughing even reached her ears and Allyson felt slightly unnerved. The boy looked about ready to scream.

He stopped a passing guard, practically attaching himself to the older man, and asked something. The guard's face reddened, pursed his lips and said something. The boy immediately let go.

Allyson swallowed. They were talking about a platform between platform 9 and 10. Good chance they were talking about platform 9¾. She walked up to the boy.

"Uhm,—" There was a snow-white owl on his trolley. Oh well, worst case he would think she was a lunatic. He wouldn't be the first. "—looking for platform 9¾?''

The boy looked up. Relief washed over his face. He was a bit taller than Allyson, and behind his round glasses appealing green eyes looked back at her.

"Yeah!'' The boy said. Allyson smiled. "You know how to get there?'' Her smile faltered.

''Oh, eh no. That I don't know. But I suppose we have a better chance at finding it together.''

The boy smiled en nodded. ''I'm Harry, Harry Potter.'' he said, while he stuck out his hand. '_Potter_', that name did sound familiar…

She shook his hand, "Allyson, Allyson Gilbert." She quipped.

They both looked around. According to the large clock, above the arrival board, there were only ten minutes left to board the train to Hogwarts. And they still were nowhere closer to find out where the bloody Platform was.

Allyson pushed her hand in her pocket. Fishing out the little ticket for the hundredth and first time, she glanced at the by now familiar lettering. Her ticket said King's Cross Station, London, to Hogsmeade. Platform 9 and ¾.

''I feel like a fool. I'm stranded in the middle of a strange station, with a trunk I can hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money and a grand owl.'' Harry exclaimed loudly, throwing his hands in the air angrily. "Where the hell should we go to?"

At that same moment a group of people passed them. An older boy pushed past her, obviously in a hurry. Allyson was about to turn around, when their voices flittered out over the others. "—Packed with Muggles, of course —''

Glancing at each other, Harry and Allyson turned around. A small, plump woman and four boys, all with fire red hair passed by. Although their clothes, a bit worse for wear, were nothing to go by, the gaping looks they were giving the other travellers actually was.

'Muggles' Harry mouthed at Allyson. She nodded, and they both followed the redheaded family.

"Well, what's the platform number?'' said the mother of the four boys.

"9¾!" squeaked a little girl, her red hair caught in the light of the sun. Stepping closer to her mother, she grabbed her mother's hand. Turning to face her older woman, the girl squeezed her hand. "Ma, why can't I go too…"

"You're too young, Ginny. Next year." The woman said, before looking at her oldest son. "All right, Percy, you go first."

Harry and Allyson irked closer. The eldest, an imperious look on his face, walked up to the wall separating platform 9 and 10 with firm strides. He had an air of arrogance hanging around him, and Allyson felt her toes curl. Just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, he seemed to vanish.

"He, disappeared in thin air!" Allyson exclaimed, barely suppressing the sudden lace of excitement. Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed.

Two younger boys, twins by all accounts, walked up next. With encouragement from the small woman, they stepped towards the solid looking wall and seemed to vanish as well.

"It almost is like he went _through_ the wall!" Allyson said, frowning slightly. Harry leaned on his trolley, while fingering the brakes. The second twin went forward.

"Perhaps we should simply ask?" Harry said.

Allyson nodded. Just as they were about to approach the woman, a large hand clasped Allyson's shoulder. Both children turned.

"Dad!" Allyson exclaimed. Mikeal Gilbert towered over them. His mouth set in a tight line and his face pale. Harry dragged his hand through his hair nervously. Allyson couldn't blame him. Her father always had an imposing air around him. Something he got from being in politics for so long. "We figured out how to get through towards platform 9¾." She informed him happily.

"You did?" Catherine Gilbert interrupted, stepping up next to her husband. Mikeal indulged his wife with a small smile, before glancing through the hall.

"Yes, although this might sound a bit strange but, oh btw, this is Harry." Allyson said shoving the boy to her parents. "He goes to Hogwarts as well."

Her mother smiled. She was the approachable one. "Hello, I'm Catherine Gilbert, and this is my husband Mikeal." Harry nodded.

"Harry, Harry Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." He shook Catherine's hand.

Allyson smiled, "As I was saying, the platform is behind the brick wall. We saw three boys go through it."

Her father gave her a look as if she had grown a second head. "Through… the wall?" He asked. "Pet, don't get me wrong, but how can a platform be behind a brick wall? Without an Entrance to be specific. Even with wizards and witches, this is bizarre!"

"Ah," a third voice interrupted. "You're going to Hogwarts too?" They all turned around to the sound of a fifth party. The plump woman from before stood now only a few feet away. The little red-headed girl took hiding behind her.

"Ehm, yes ma'am." Harry said.

"My youngest son is new too. I can imagine it's a bit much at first." the woman said, chuckling. As both Allyson and Harry glanced at her to elaborate, she pointed at the thick brick wall between platforms 9 and 10, "You'll only have to walk to the wall. Don't stop and no need to be afraid, you'll not collide with it, that's very important. If you're a bit afraid, you better run."

"Wait a minute," Mikeal Gilbert seemed to have found his voice back; "I won't let my daughter run up against a wall!"

"Shush dad, this really isn't the first weird thing we see. You said your self, that there were goblins working in the bank at Diagon ally. After that, this sounds plain normal."

Harry chuckled.

"Well, no matter what, you'll have to hurry. The train will depart in only a view minutes." The small woman said as she pushed the sleeve of her dress — a yellow flower petal pattern adorning it — revealing a small wrist watch. "And, I'm sorry, but non-magical people can't pass.

"It's about time Mikeal. We knew it would be— strange, but we promised." Catherine said softly, smiling affectionately at her only child.

Mikeal nodded. "All right" He turned to his daughter, and developed her in a bear hug.

"Don't forget to write us, Sweetheart." Her mother joined in, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You better not forget that."

"I won't!'' was Allyson's smothered answer.

Harry's mouth thinned and his eyes looked haunted for a moment, before he schooled his features back to nonchalant. Allyson felt a pang of quilt, remembering what his family had been with. The way his family had dropped him off— Her mother seemed to notice. The next thing they knew she had wrapped her arms around the boy. "Do take care of our little ball, she's always a bit awkward."

"MUM!"

"I'll keep an eye on them. You won't need to worry. I'll let you know how the boarding goes." The plump woman assured. Although reluctantly, Allyson's parents nodded. Allyson gave them both one last hug, before steering her trolley around and fell in step with Harry.

"Okay, ehm, run straight to the brick wall eh?" Harry said.

Allyson chuckled nervously, before shrugging. The bricks looked quite solid to be running _through_. Harry pushed his trolley to the barrier. He quickened his pace and started to run. Allyson breathed in heavily. She bent over the cart and started to run as well. They were going to smash right into that barrier. Harry was only a foot before her. The barrier came closer and closer. She closed her eyes, and waited for the crash—

It never came… They just ran further…

Slowing down, Allyson breathed out a sigh of relief. They were standing on a crowded platform. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to the platform, which was packed with people. The board above their heads read: Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.

Behind them, they saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it.

_They made it!_

The smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Harry and Allyson made their way to the engine. The first carriages were already packed with students; some students hanging out the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats and others were hugging their friends, missed during their summer-escapades.

Allyson smiled, wishing she could behold this picture a few moments longer, but that just wouldn't do. Their ride was waiting and if they lingered her too long, the Hogwarts Express would leave without her. Harry smiled, before steering his luggage towards the engine. Allyson smiled before following.

"Gran, I've lost my toed again." a round-faced boy, his lower-lip struck out, said softly.

"Oh, Neville," an old woman, tall and tired, sighed.

Allyson smiled, sympathetically at the boy, but he didn't seem to notice. His shoulders hunched and his eyes watered, so Allyson quickened her step, not wishing to make things more uncomfortable.

Owls flew around all over the Station delivering post, and almost everywhere Allyson looked there where children with their parents. Harry's eyes lingered over a couple hugging a boy their age and she felt another wave of sympathy run through her.

"Shall we find a place to sit?" Allyson asked, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

Harry smiled, before nodding. "Yeah let's go."

Finding a compartment was difficult, as hardly any was available. As they pushed their trunks through the aisle — which had taken some serious effort to board on the train— they began their search for an empty compartment. Allyson sighed, trying to orientate herself a bit, while trying to avoid bing trampled by the older students. Harry, being a bit faster than Allyson, guided his trunk to the middle of the train in no time.

The throng of people was suffocating and Allyson was slightly reminded of one of the school trips she had been on, when she was attending Muggle school back at Germany. She could even remember the stuffy bus ride and—

"Ah, I found an empty compartment." Harry cried, while waving his hand at her. The compartment was at the very end of the train. Allyson sighed miserable as she started to cross the corridor. Allyson pulled her trunk into the room, the door closing behind her with a thud.

The seats looked as if they were inviting her to slouch down onto them, and she gratefully, pulled her trunk up and started to stow it atop the luggage rack. Giving her an amused look, Harry stepped up next to her. "Need some help?"

"Wipe that smile off your face." Allyson huffed, whacking him playful on his arm. "But yes, your help would be greatly appreciated."

Giving her trunk a good last push, securing it between the ceiling and the metal of the luggage rack, Harry smiled. Sighing, Allyson plopped down on the couch opposite of Harry and looked through the window. She spotted the small plump woman from before almost right away. Waving she pushed her head out. The woman chuckled.

"Thanks for your help ma'am!" She shouted, drawing quite some attention to their window. Allyson felt her face redden, as people snapped their heads to look at her. She pulled her head back and sat down in the leather of the seat.

Harry chuckled, smiling politely as the woman came closer to their window.

"Do enjoy your self, dears. I will make sure your parents won't worry." The woman nodded to the children, before turning back, probably pursuing her own.

"She thinks we're related." Harry muttered looking amused. Allyson glanced at the boy before clucking her tongue.

"Well, _brother_. What will we be doing while travelling towards Hogwarts?" she asked sarcastically.

Harry smiled, before slouching down into his seat. "I have no idea."

The train started to depart. Harry glanced through the window. Allyson frowned. She hadn't noticed it before, but he had a lighting-bolt shaped scar on his right temple. Her eyes widened. That's why his name sounded so familiar. She had seen his name in relation to the disappearance of "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". He was a very dark wizard, also known as Voldemort, who had vanished without a trace. Sucking her lower-lip between her teeth, she shook her head. She didn't think it was wise to say anything. He probably didn't appreciate being fussed over.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I was staring."

"You're not the only one." He muttered darkly

"I really am sorry; I didn't mean to."

"I know." He answered, before giving her a weak smile. "It's fine, at least you didn't throw yourself at me."

She chuckled, momentarily wondering if she should ask for his autograph to annoy him. At that moment the door from the compartment opened. The youngest red-haired boy came in.

"Ehm" he looked at the two occupants "Can I sit here with you?" And he pointed to the couch opposite Harry, on which Allyson also sat. "Everything is already full."

Harry nodded his head and the boy took a seat. His eyes trailed curiously over Harry until the messy-haired boy met his gaze. Reddening until his cheeks matched his hair, he quickly looked away.

The youngest redheaded boy was a taller and bulkier than the average eleven-year-old. His red hair clashed feverishly with his clothes and Allyson noticed he had a black smooch on his nose.

"So," Allyson began, but before she could finish her sentence the boy didn't let her finish her sentence.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" he asked, an excited etch to his tone.

Harry nodded. He looked quite embarrassed.

"Fred and George already mentioned they saw your scar, but I wasn't sure." the boy explained. "You really have — I mean…" The boy pointed to Harry's face.

Harry pushed the strands of his hair from his forehead; the lighting bolt scar became visible again. The boy openly stared.

"So, that's were You-know-who -"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I don't remember anything about it."

Allyson blinked. If she was honest, she wasn't sure if she would want to remember her parent's death. On the other hand, she would have wanted to at least have one memory about them—

"Nothing?" the red-head muttered, interrupting her thoughts. He seemed somewhat sad about it. Allyson wondered if the fame appealed to him. He seemed terribly excited by the whole idea, in Allyson's opinion.

"Well, a lot of green light, but other than that, nothing." Harry explained.

"Wow," the boy said, "Oh, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

Allyson nodded and Harry smiled. "I'm Allyson Gilbert, pleasure to meet you." She said softly, somewhat debating if it was that much of a pleasure. He seemed hardly interested and kept staring at Harry.

"Gilbert, that doesn't ring a bell." Ron muttered, glancing at Allyson as if seeing her for the first time.

Allyson clucked her tongue. "I would be surprised if it did, I'm muggle-born."

Ron nodded, "First witch in the family?"

"As far, as I know of." she answered, "I did try to read as much as possible in advance, seeing I didn't know anything about this world, but well, it's quite hard."

Harry nodded, "It is!"

"So you both live with Muggles. How is that?" Ron asked, his curiosity spiked. She supposed Muggles were as fascinating to him, as wizards initially had been to Allyson and her parents.

Allyson shrugged. "I don't think it differs that much from any parent. They raised me and tried to teach me the world."

"Well," Harry began, "mine are horrible. Not all Muggles are, but my aunt, uncle and nephew… I wish I had three wizard brothers, instead!"

"Five," Ron said, who, for some reason, looked rather bleak. "I'm the sixth who goes to Hogwarts." his face grew ever bleaker, and his voice grew angry. "It means I have a lot to live up too. They all have these special qualities, and I don't. And also having five brothers, means you get all their left overs. I got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat."

Grumbling under his breath, he pulled out a thick sleeping grey rat of his breast pocket. "His name is Scabbers and he's absolutely useless."

"Hm," Allyson said, "I find him cute."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking skeptic, "He only ever sleeps. Percy got an owl, for getting to be prefect," Harry gave Allyson a look, obviously not sure what that meant. "But they didn't have any mon-, I mean, I was stuck with Scabbers."

Ron's ears turned red and he shook his head violently, turning his face to the window. His jaw set, as he stared out of the window.

The ride went by, and somewhere around twelve past thirty, Harry had bought up the complete candy cart, leaving them in a mess of colour full candy-bars and chocolate frogs. Allyson had never really appreciated candy. It came from having a mother who worked in health care.

Allyson supposed she got her curiosity for healing from her mother. According to her father Catherine Gilbert had been just as much as a bookworm as Allyson was. She smiled; she couldn't contradict that statement. She spent every hour of the last three weeks pouring over her school textbooks until she could quote the text without regarding it.

A sharp knock resounded through the compartment, bringing Allyson back from her wandering thoughts. The compartment dour slid open and the boy with the round face — Neville Allyson remembered — stepped in. He seemed to be close to tears and his cheeks were blotched red.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice shaking. "but, have you seen my toad?"

Speechless the three children in the compartment all shook their heads. Allyson frowned; hadn't he lost it already on the platform back in London?

"I've lost him." Neville explained. "Trevor always runs away."

"I'm sure you'll find him," Harry said sympathetically. Allyson deducted he must have found it and lost it in the train again, before she nodded. Straightening in her seat, she dragged her nails along the arm of her seat. "Perhaps—"

But Neville had already stepped out of the compartment with a strangled sob, and the door closed with a louder thud than was necessary.

"Oh, I was just about to ask if he'd already tried the _Accio-charm_!" Allyson muttered. His grandmother had obviously been a witch — with the strange way of dressing —, while the Accio-charm was a common used spell. Or at least, Allyson thought so…

"The what?" Ron asked. Harry also gave her a blank look.

'_Apparently not…_'

Allyson smiled, "I bought an advanced charms book— well, my father bought it— but it was briefly mentioned."

"You do realise, you're just about to be a _first_ year, right?" Harry said looking slightly amused. Ron laughed.

Allyson stuck her tongue out. "Well, excuse me, for trying to prepare myself. Thereby the Accio-charm is not an advanced spell."

Harry laughed and Ron smiled.

oOo

Allyson stared out of the window for most of the journey, until she started to feel restless. Although it had been interesting to watch the countryside and the neatly moulded lawns turning into forests. The ground outside stretched down in a slopping manner until it collided with the churning of the sea. Allyson remembered McGonagall telling her and her parents Hogwarts was located in the mountains.

"I'm going out for a walk." she said, rubbing her hands together tiredly. She assumed they were getting close. "See you two in a bit." Allyson smiled, before standing up — almost tripping over Ron's long legs — and slowly left through the door.

As she made her way through the aisle she barely dodged a few boys who seemed to have invented some kind of childish game. They launched themselves through the confined space and Allyson sighed; boys were so immature. Trying to avoid being trampled, she rounded the corner with a huff. There was an equal displeased looking girl with bouncy chestnut hair and big front teeth, pressed against the wall, after what seemed to be a close call with a boy wearing a yellow and black scarf. The girl was Allyson's age, and had already changed into her school robes and looked incredibly put out.

Smiling at the other girl Allyson pushed a lock of hair out of her face, when a boy ran into her back with full force. Allyson yelped, hobbled, lost her balance and fell. She closed her eyes and waited for the impact of the ground. It never came; instead of the hard metallic substance, she was met with another body. Automatically grabbing onto it, she took it down with her. Her head hit something hard, stunning her momentarily. Disoriented, tears stinging, the taste of blood filled her mouth, she blinked rapidly.

"Ouch," she muttered, while she brought her hand to her head.

"Damn!" A muffled voice grounded out.

She gasped, while trying to sit up. As she opened her eyes deep blue met grey.

_To be continued…_

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**A/N: With this story being fully revised there are a lot of chapters to go over, but this one was for some reason the hardest. It always had something that I wasn't satisfied with, but I suppose it is better now.**

**Please do comment and let me know what you all think. I'd love to have get some words of advise. And if you see errors into this, please notify me. I'm afraid that at some point I do read over them!**

**Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling. I like to think Allyson Gilbert does…**


	3. Chapter 2, Hogwarts

**A/N: And here is chapter two: Please enjoy, and let me know what you think. Is it more interesting? I admit, the bigger changes can be found further in the story, but I love to know what you all think.**

**Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling**

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**oOo**

* * *

**Chapter two, Hogwarts**

**T**he sun was slowly dipping below the horizon, lightly filtering through the treetops in little dappled patches. A shaft of sunlight filtered through the window while the train speeded through the mountain. For a moment the train was dipped into grayish darkness, before the lights of the train turned on.

Allyson sat up slowly. A boy, he was the same height as Allyson, was stared back at her. He was pale with silver blond hair and grey-blue eyes, staring at her. His face was marred with sharp angles and planes, but it didn't make him ugly, although perhaps it made his chin a bit pointy. Other than herself, she'd never seen someone who was that pale. Swallowing she let her weight rest on her elbows and sat up. There was a slight ache in the back of head and Allyson felt a wave of dizziness pass through her.  
"I'm sorry! I couldn't avoid you." A voice behind her cried.

Allyson turned her head, glaring at the idiot who had run her over. He was fidgeting; rubbing his hands together while his friends laughed at his dismay.

"Perhaps, if you didn't use the aisle as some kind of playground, you would have." The blond boy sneered. Allyson couldn't really blame him. Her head was hurting. The kid muttered something inaudible, before dashing away.

Coward!

Her vision blurred at the edges and she felt him catch her shoulders. "Oh no, not again." He whispered urgently. Massaging her temple she inhaled loudly, before exhaling slowly. She felt someone grab her under her elbows and hoist her up. Off the boy and on her own feet.

"Thanks, Goyle." the boy said.

Allyson looked around warily. A tall and large boy stood behind her, looking rather nasty. His lips were pulled back into a sneer and he patted her awkwardly on her back.

"Ehm, I'm sorry." Allyson said, directing her attention back to the blond boy again.

He signed, "Yeah, well, don't let it happen again." Cocking his head, he gave her a scrutinising look. She raised her eyebrows. Was this the first time he saw a girl, or something? His eyebrows furrowed, seemingly in thought, while he stared at her face. Allyson bit her lower lip. Did he need to do that?

"I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Allyson Gilbert, nice to meet you." She softly answered.

"Doesn't sound familiar." He muttered, echoing exactly what Ron had said. She was about to respond, when another large boy interrupted them.

"Malfoy, I found him. Around the corner, second compartment. The bushy-haired girl confirmed it."

"Oh, great! Have to go, Gilbert." He said, somewhat dismissing her. He dashed past her, disappearing around the corner, his cronies — or bodyguards — following.

"You're lucky—" a slightly familiar voice commented.

Allyson turned. Seeing one of the red-headed twin-boys from before.

"Huh, why?" She asked, absentmindedly rubbing at the back of her head.

"He said his surname was 'Malfoy', right?"

Allyson nodded.

"They say," he started, obviously struggling for the right words. "Malfoy is— biased on muggle-borns." He said, with an air of seriousness that didn't fit him.

"They?" Allyson asked.

"My dad works with his. He said Malfoy's father looks down on everything muggle related." he explained matter-of-factly.

She looked over her shoulder. That didn't sound really fair now, did it? She looked up to the older boy again and shrugged. "He didn't act that nasty, but I wouldn't really know."

The older boy nodded. "Are you all right. You have blood on your chin."

Allyson slowly brought her hand to her chin. She could feel it. A trickle of blood had drizzled down her chin and she sighed. Taking her hand back, she wasn't surprised to see the dark smooch. Closing her hand in a fist, the girl shook her head. She didn't like blood. Looking up towards the tall teen, she shrugged.

"I bit my tong when I fell." Allyson said, taking note of the slight sting. "I think I'll return to my own compartment now. It was nice talking to you."

The boy smiled and winked, before taking off in the opposite direction.

She watched him leave, before retreating her steps to her compartment. As she was about to reach for the handle, a loud yell made her hesitate. What the hell? The compartment dour swung open. A flash of blond caught her attention, before she pressed herself swiftly against the opposite wall. One close meeting with the ground — a person — was more than enough, thank you very much.

Draco Malfoy was looking rather unpleased and strode by with swift steps. His two cronies — one clutching his hand to his chest — were following closely behind. Momentarily stunned, she just watched the three boys hurry away.

"Bloody hell, I think they killed him!" Ron's voice reached her ears.

'Killed?' Allyson shook her head and strode back inside. Crossing her arms over her chest she was about to ask what happened, when she saw Ron, crouched down onto the floor, looking worriedly at something in his hands.

Frowning, she cocked her head. "Ron, what happened?"

"Unbelievable!" the boy shouted, making Allyson jump. "He's just a sleep! Again!" the red-head hissed angrily, before shoving his rat, Scabbers, under her nose. She blinked stupidly, before looking at Harry.

"Don't ask, really, it isn't worth it." He muttered giving Ron an apprehensive glance.

She nodded, before slumping in the cushion. The floor was littered with candy wrappers and someone's jacket had gotten stuck under the trash bin. What in the world had happened in the ten minutes she'd been away?

Allyson had just taken out a book, when the compartment door slid open again. The girl with the frizzy hair and the big front teeth strode in. Her eyes flitted through the compartment, before turning to Harry and Ron.

"What has been going on?" she demanded, looking at the candy wrappers with a frown. Her gaze shifted to Ron, who was holding Scabbers by his tail, and her eyes hardened. "You guys weren't in a fight were you?"

"No, we weren't," Ron said, glowering at her as if her mere presence alone was insulting him. "Scabbers was."

Allyson cocked an eyebrow and looked at Harry. 'I'll tell you later!' He mouthed at her. She nodded. Pushing the rodent back in his breast pocket, Ron gave the girl one last withering look before shifting his attention back to Harry: "How is it you already knew Malfoy, Harry?"

"I met him at Diagon Ally. He was very, what's the right word, unpleasant." Harry said, waving his hand absently through the air.

Allyson curled her legs more comfortable under her, while twisting her braid though her fingers. That Malfoy boy was rapidly gaining a reputation. And by the looks of it, it wasn't a good one.

"I've heard of their family," Ron began darkly. "They were part of the first, who returned to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. They said they were bewitched, but dad won't have any of that. He says that Malfoy's dad has no problem with going over to the Dark side."

Allyson mauled over his words before shrugging. "One's word just doesn't add up to bodily evidence, I suppose." She said, pulling her bag out from under her seat. Absentmindedly playing with the straps, she sighed. The 'Dark side' the voice in her head echoed. Witches and wizards surly had a funny way of describing Voldemort's followers. According to her father 'war' wasn't anything but a dark side. You might think you fight for the right side. But 'right' very much depended on your point of view. And on that of the ones who won that same war. Not really all that willing to repeat those words the girl shrugged her vest off and pulled her robe on. Combined with the black skirt and her plain t-shirt, it would do fine.

"Can we help you?" Ron asked, turning towards the door.

Allyson looked up questingly. She followed his line of vision to the bushy haired girl. She seemed to be comfortable, leaning against the door post, while inspecting her shoes. Looking up, like a dear caught in headlight, she shook her head.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on," she said. "I've been to the front to ask the driver and he says we're almost there."

Allyson nodded. This girl was rather bossy. "All right, thank you."

Looking around again, the bushy-haired girl frowned. Twisting the hem of her robe between her fingers, she glared at Ron. They weren't getting on, that was for sure.

"You really haven't been fighting, have you?" the girl said, her demeanour resembling that of a teacher. "Otherwise, you guys will be into trouble before the school year has even started."

"We didn't fight, Scabbers did, I told you!" Ron said icily. "And could you leave us alone, so we can change?"

"Fine, fine," the girl huffed impatiently, glancing at the rat with a look that said; 'Yeah, right—'. The girl had a steely glint in her eyes not unlike the one her mother sometimes had. "I only came in, because people outside were behaving very childishly; racing up and down the corridors," the girl huffed in a sniffy voice.

Ron didn't acknowledge her words with more than a glare and the girl bristled, pointing a trembling finger at his face.

"And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" she snapped, before she spun on her heel, and went out.

Ron looked furiously after her. The compartment door slid close with a sharp thud and Ron proceeded in muttering profanities under his breath.

"What was that all about?" Allyson said, looking at the boys.

"That is a show-off. She came in asking for Neville's frog. Bossing us around. Who does she think she is?" Ron huffed, his face going purple.

Harry shrugged, "She wasn't so bad. She is just a bit of a Know-it-all."

Nodding, Allyson pulled out one of her books letting the boys have some privacy.

oOo

After a while the skyline was dipped into a dark orange hue, twilight creeping over the lands and chasing the fast retreating lights of the day. The sun was setting and the sky seemed to blaze with a lazy fire. When Allyson had been younger she'd loved sunsets. The bold spectrum of colour in contrast with the darkened clouds made everything look magical. Even now; seeing the colourful sky made her feel safe and happy. The boys had fallen into a blissful silence and all three of them looked as the sun slipped across the horizon. As an inky black sky appeared decorated with countless stars, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

"There it is!" Harry exclaimed.

Allyson exhaled loudly, before scrambling over to the window to look at the castle. It was immense, but before her over-productive mind could store details away, they seemed to descend a mountain.

"What about those?" Allyson asked, looking down at the candy-covered floor. Her mouth was drying and the nervousness slowly taking over her senses. The boys didn't look any better. They were both pale, and started to push the sweets into their pockets.

Jerking to a standing position, Allyson gave her trunk one last glance — she wasn't sure how she felt about leaving her belongings into a train compartment —, before she swiftly opened the compartment door. The three children pushed themselves into the crowded corridor. Grabbing a hold of Harry's elbow, Allyson tried to keep her balance as she was roughly pushed aside.

Everyone seemed to be very eager to get out of the constricted area, pushing and pulling as to get to the exit. The train slowed down, and came to a stop in front of a dark platform. Keeping close to the wall, both Allyson and Harry watched as Ron elbowed his way through the crowd. He was tall for an eleven-year-old boy and used height as a leverage. Following his example, Harry and Allyson started to push their way towards the door and out on to the tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered, slightly bumping into Allyson. It was cold.  
As the students tried to orientate themselves, a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students. A loud deep voice echoed over their heads: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

A giant, with a savaged face and a friendly smile, was swinging a lantern in his large hand. Spotting Harry, he waved before barking: "Hello there, Harry."

Ron and Allyson gave Harry, who grinned sheepishly, an amused smile. Shrugging the messy-haired boy pulled his robes closer to himself. "That's Hagrid," Harry explained. "He came to get me from the Dursley's."

"Come along, follow me — are there anymore firs' years?" the giant cried.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down, what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them, Allyson supposed must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, and Allyson smiled, "just round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Allyson's eyes widened as the side was even more breath-taking than from the train window. On the other side of the lake, pressed atop a high mountain stood an enormous castle, with numerous towers and turrets. The hundreds of windows lit up the distant sky like stars. while it's window sparkled against the starry sky. Almost slipping over the slippery shore she noticed a float of little boats.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called and he pointed at the boats.

Harry, Ron and Allyson got company from a boy, who introduced himself as Dean Thomas.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then, FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads, and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face.  
They were carried along a dark tunnel, which apparently took them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto the rocks and pebbles. Somewhere along they found Neville's frog; Trevor. How he got opposite of a lake, was beyond Allyson, but she was happy for Neville all the same.

Hagrid lead them up a flight of stone steps, hidden in the rock, and they crowded around a huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid asked Neville, who nodded.

Then he raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. The doors swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch, in emerald green robes stood there. Allyson immediately recognised her as the witch, who had visited her and her parents, to explain about Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall had a strict look on her face. It was clear you better stayed on her good side.

"This, firsts', is professor McGonagall." Hagrid said.

"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take them from here." the tall woman said, before pulling the door wide. She led the new students into the castle. The walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling so incredibly high, Allyson had to strain her neck to look all the way up. A magnificent marble staircase was facing them, leading to the upper floors she suspected.

The professor led them to a little room, near the double doors leading to what Allyson suspected was the dining room. Allyson could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right. The rest of the school must have already arrived, and the young girl wondered what they were going to have to do to get sorted.

"Welcome at Hogwarts, all of you." Professor McGonagall said. "In a bit the banquet will start, but before you join, you'll have to be sorted in one of the four houses. During your stay your house will act as your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. All houses have their own noble history with their own witches and wizards. You can earn points for your house, but beware, when you break the rules, points can be deducted. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." the stern looking witch explained, looking towards all the nervous faces.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron, who still had a smooch on his nose. Allyson saw Harry nervously trying to flatten his unruly hair; a fruitless task, if you asked her.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

The students murmured excitedly. All kind of speculations, about what they'd have to do, were passed around. Allyson kept quiet. It couldn't be that bad. The only thing that really worried her was which House she would be in.  
Still, when the strangest speculations started to go around, she tried to remember all the spells she had practiced, but it was hard to produce something for the unknown.

After a while Professor McGonagall returned and they were lead into the 'Great hall'. The first thing Allyson noticed was how bright the Great Hall was. It was illuminated by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables; where the rest of students were sitting. The tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. The older students were smiling down at the throng of first-years hovering.

At the end of the hall was another long table were the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall beckoned the first years to follow her up there.

Allyson looked up, itching to see the bewitched ceiling, which she knew would show the sky. At the moment it was pitch dark, decorated with thousands of stars.

"I've read about that in 'Hogwarts, a history", she heard the bushy haired girl — Hermione Granger according to Harry — say, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside." Neville followed her gaze, but his eyes were unfocused.

Ron rolled his eyes and made a face, sneering at Granger's back. Allyson shook her head, before leaning up to him and whispered "She's right you know."

"Shut up." He huffed, shoving her lightly. Her nerves slightly distinguished.

Professor McGonagall walked up to the teachers' table and silently put a stool down in front of it; so all students could see. On the stool she softly placed an old pointy brown leather wizard hat. The first-years all crowded around stool and some stood on their tip toes, to look at the stuffy old thing and Allyson noticed they were not the only ones. The rest of the students and also the teachers were glancing down at the Hat with something akin of expectation on their face.  
A rip near the brim opened wide like a gaping mouth, and the Hat started to sing:

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter Hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindor's apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means To achieve their ends.  
so put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a thinking Cap!

The whole hall burst into applause as the Hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

"So we only have to put the hat up?" Ron whispered to Harry and Allyson. "I'm going to kill Fred! He said we had to fight a troll!"

Harry and Allyson smiled. God she was nervous. Why did they have to do this in front of everyone? Why not in a broom-closet? That way there wouldn't be thousands of eyes directed at you…

Professor McGonagall then stepped forward, with a roll of parchment in her hand. "When I call your name, you come to the stool in the front and you'll be sorted." She said.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line, put on the Hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—

"HUFFLEPUFF." shouted the Hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at her new House table. A ghost waved merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat shouted again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah

"Booth, Terry!" A pleasant looking boy, a bit taller than Allyson, with very large brown eyes and a round face walked up to the stool. He had close-cropped light brown hair that suited him nicely.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Various students of the Ravenclaw table stood up, to shook the young boys hand. As the sorting continued the first years thinned out. She heard Hermione whisper something to Neville. Apparently they both wished to be in Gryffindor.  
Allyson looked around, trying to memorise the faces of the new students. Feeling eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder staring straight in the face of Draco Malfoy. His eyebrow slightly furrowed.

"Gilbert, Allyson!"

She gulped. Harry patted her shoulder sympathetically, before she walked up to the stool. Professor McGonagall nodded, and placed the Hat on her head. Its size was indeed to big and almost immediately fell over her eyes.

"Nervous, young one?" a voice in her ear said. Fighting the urge to jump, she nodded numbly. She didn't wish to look like a fool, but it felt rather weird.

"A fine set of brains. Very familiar too." She furrowed her brows. Familiar?

"Ah yes, you remind me of a boy, two decades ago. A young Slytherin."

She swallowed. She wasn't really sure were she wanted to go, but with all the stories she heard about Slytherin, she feared she would feel hopelessly out of place.

"Would you? I feel a strong sense of ambition. Also quite intelligent, loyal, not very challenged at your first school, were you? Well, we're about to change that."

Allyson heard the murmurs rise. She was taking longer than the average student.

"Well, you're a difficult customer. I see potential, but not just in one house." The hat went silent for a moment. Other than the student body, the only sound she could decipher, was the sound of her heart.

"Yes, that will do…"

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 3, The sorting

**A/N: And here is chapter three. The update is a bit delayed because for some reason Doc Manager refused to upload my word document. I hope the problems will be fixed soon, but if not I'll have to find another form of documenting.**

**This chapter is mostly focused onto the sorting and after this school will start and the adventure will officially start. I hope everyone will enjoy the ride.**

**Please review! I'd love to know what you all think!**

**Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling**

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

**Chapter three, The sorting**

**T**he hat fell momentarily silent, while the murmurs in the Great Hall rose. Curling her toes in her shoes, Allyson tried to remember how many people had already been sorted. Numbers had always calmed her in a way other things hadn't. The Hat kept silent for a moment longer before:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She slowly pulled the Hat off, feeling slightly dazed. Smiling at Professor McGonagall she put the Hat back on the stool and walked up to the Gryffindor table where she was met with a loud applause. She smiled, had to shake many hands and heard many names, which she would not remember at all in one night. Allyson sat down next to an other first year; Chrissy Golding who patted her back and reassured her that Gryffindor was the best.

The sorting continued: "Granger, Hermione!"

The bushy-haired Muggle-born almost ran up to the stool and jammed the Hat eagerly on her head. She could see Ron mutter something, and could almost imagine him praying the girl would not be sorted into Gryffindor. The Hat took its time; Granger's mouth pursed and Allyson realised she might have been arguing with it.

It took only a second later the Hat raised itself up on the girl's head; the flap opening:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron looked devastated, his head falling back on his shoulders in defeat. Allyson almost laughed. Hermione Granger jumped up and practically ran to the table, before stuffing herself between an other first year, Amy Geagen, and an upper year, who's name Allyson no longer remembered. The brunette nodded happily at Allyson and Allyson smiled back at her, before turning her attention back to the sorting.

Harry Potter looked troubled. He and Ron Weasley were almost numbly looking at the sorting. Allyson scrunched her eyebrows, met the messy-haired boy's gaze and stuck her thump up to him. He smiled back weakly, but his face remained pale.

Hermione started chattering nervously to Amy Geagen. The other girl smiled politely, while the sorting continued.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

The chubby boy who kept losing his toad, almost fell over his own feet on the way towards the stool and the Hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRIFFINDOR!", Neville was so excited, he jerked up and ran off towards the Gryffindor table, while still wearing the Hat. Amid gales of laughter he had to jog back to give the Hat to "Morag MacDougal", who was sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Malfoy, Draco" was next. He swaggered rather nonchalantly up to the stool. The Hat hardly touched his head, before it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Looking very pleased; his smirk gleefully and his strut confident, he sauntered over and slipped down between the gorillas; Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table. There weren't many students left. "Moon"… "Not"… "Park"… A pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"… "Perks"… And then—

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, loud whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. Their voices filtering over the students heads

"Did she say Potter?"

"_THE_ Harry Potter?"

Students all around Allyson got to their feet to get a better view, craning their necks their faces turned towards the stool. Allyson signed, as Harry sat down. His jaw was set and his shoulders tense. It must be hard to be famous for something you didn't even remember doing. Harry's emerald eyes were blocked immediately from view, when Professor McGonagall dropped the Hat on his head.

The Hat was silent for some time. Allyson noticed Harry's hands grip at the edges of the stool; his knuckles turned white. It looked as if he was arguing with the hat.

Professor McGonagall eyed the back of Harry's head owlishly. Her lips forming a thin white line as she pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry took off the Hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. He was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the prefect stood up to shake Harry's hand and the Weasley twins started yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry sat down next to Allyson, who patted him on the back as Chrissy had done. "There you go; sorted and all."

Harry gave her a small smile and signed.

He looked around and his gaze lingered on the High Table, where the teachers were seated. Allyson followed his gaze. At the nearest end of the table sat Hagrid, who gave him the thumps-up. Allyson softly chuckled and brought her gaze back to the sorting.

There were only three people left.

"Turpin, Lisa" was a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron's turn. The boy was pale and a green tinge started at his neck and ascended to his cheeks. Staggered up to the stool, he almost collapsed on top of it, and pulled the Hat on. It didn't take long:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

They watched as the, now, white-faced boy made his way to the table. He slumped down next to Harry's other side, without a word. His brother Percy the prefect arched over them to Ron while pompously saying, "Good work, Ron. Excellent work."

At the same time "Zabini, Blaise" got sorted, and waddled over towards the Slytherin table. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Allyson looked around the hall and back to her plate. The students were still a bit unsettled as many pair of eyes were glued to Harry's back. The murmurs were deafening and Allyson sighed; she was hungry. She didn't even had lunch — couldn't really call the overdose of candy lunch, could she?

Albus Dumbledore, who was seated at the centre of the High Table, in a large golden chair, clapped his together. The sound, being echoed through the Hall, efficiently caught the student's attention. Nodding towards his colleague, a small man with glasses, Dumbledore stood up. Arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see the students all together, he cleared his throat.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Everyone clapped and cheered, while he sat down again. Allyson furrowed her eyebrows. Harry gave an amused smile, before turning to Percy: "Is he— a bit mad?"

"Mad?" Percy asked airy. Allyson snickered while Ron imitated his brother's face, not that Percy was realising. "Great mind! Greatest wizard of all time! But yes, I suppose he is a bit off his rocker." Offering them a plate with potatoes, he smiled politely. "Potatoes, Harry?"

Allyson blinked stupidly, before looking back at the table, which was now filled with the most delicious dishes. Shaking her head, she again thanked whatever God was responsible for magic, and that she could be part of it, before starting to fill her plate. She had never seen so many things she liked to eat on one table before. There was roast beef, pork chops, lamb chops and roast chicken in hand reach, but there was so much more.

"That looks really delicious!" Allyson chocked on her roasted chicken, before following the voice from behind her. Harry was in the middle of chopping his beef into small pieces. Behind him hovered a transparent ghost. He was wearing a victorian sort of coat with a lace collar and a sad smile onto his gaunt face.

Harry swallowed and said: "And you can't —"

"I haven't eaten in almost five hundred years." the ghost said. "It's not like I needed it, of course, but I do miss it." the ghost continued. "May I introduce myself, I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service. I'm the resident ghost of Gryffindor tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said suddenly, a half eaten potato falling from his fork. "My brother told me about you— You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"Honestly, I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" the ghost began stiffly, but he was interrupted by a sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked rather miffed, obviously not happy with the course of their conversation.

"Well, like this," he said irritably. He grabbed himself by his left ear and pulled. His head flicked aside and fell on his shoulder, as if it was only attached to one single hinge. Allyson's mouth fell open. It did indeed look as if someone had tried to behead him, but hadn't quite managed.

Nearly Headless Nick seemed to take pleasure out of their stunned faces. He threw his head back at his neck and coughed a few times, before he said: "So— new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor has never failed to win so long. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The bloody Baron is becoming almost unbearable lately — that's the ghost of Slytherin!"

Allyson looked over her shoulder at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible disfigured ghost, with blank, staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was sitting one seat away from Draco Malfoy. The boy didn't look too pleased with his table mate either.

"Where did the blood come from?" Seamus asked.

"I've never asked," said Sir Nicholas delicately.

Allyson brought her gaze back to her plate and started to eat her chicken.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them as sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Allyson really liked magic. It entertained her extremely that everything appeared and disappeared out of nowhere.

She looked around the plates. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice puddings…

Allyson helped herself to the apple pie tart, while the conversations around her turned to their families.

"I'm half muggle, half wizard," Seamus said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

"One can only imagine," Allyson said, grinning she pushed her plate away before slowly resting her head on her lower arms. She was starting to feel warm and sleepy.

"And you Neville?"

Their voices started to fade away. She felt Harry shift.

"Tired too?" He muttered incoherently.

"Yeah," she opened one eye. Harry gave her a quick smile, before he looked away; towards the High Table. Allyson didn't really understand what was so interesting about the teachers, but then again she couldn't focus enough to make a distinction between the people at the table either way.

It happened suddenly. Harry jumped up, clapping a hand to this head. Allyson gasped, as his knee painfully collided with her femur. Curling her leg up under her, Allyson gave her friend a look full of concern. Harry was no longer looking at her, but turned his attention towards Percy.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"N-nothing." The boy stuttered, still massaging his forehead. His face had paled and his pupils were dilated.

"Who's the teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" He asked Percy.

Allyson followed Harry's line of vision back to the teachers' table. The adults were conversing silently with each other, unaware of the stares they were receiving. Her gaze lingered on a strange looking man with a purple turban seated next to a man with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin. Both teachers seemed to be deeply engrossed in their conversation.

The hook-nosed teacher had and unreadable expression on his face.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he looks so nervous, that's Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House. He's the Potions Master — though everyone knows, he wants Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Professor Snape does." Percy explained.

Harry nodded to Percy, smiled reassuringly to Allyson. "It's nothing, really I'm fine."

Allyson nodded slowly. "If you say so…"

The desserts disappeared, and Allyson's attention went back to the teachers. Albus Dumbledore sat in the middle of the Hight Table; his fingers curled around the stem of his wine goblet. His head was turned away from the students, as he spoke quietly to Professor McGonagall, sitting at his right side. At his left side sat a very small wizard who must have been sitting on quite a high chair in order to reach the tabletop. A plump woman with greying curly hair and a very thin woman with large glasses which magnified her eyes to several times their natural size made up the rear to the right. At the left end of the table Allyson spotted a strict looking woman — not unlike Professor McGonagall — and a man who was, what looked like, a ghost.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, effortless taking up the attention from the complete Great Hall. The murmuring voices fell silent and Dumbledore smiled welcoming.

"Ahem— just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, but a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed to the direction of Fred and George.

Hermione inhaled sharply; her hand inching towards the bag she insisted on having on her lap. "The forest is forbidden…" she muttered softly to herself.

"I have also been asked by Mister Filch, the caretaker, to remind you al that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Dumbledore continued. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch."

Ron gave a long painful sign, which was met with an annoyed stare from Hermione Granger and a lifted eyebrow from Allyson.

"First years are not allowed to play Quidditch." he explained gloomily.

"Right," Allyson mumbled. "We are not allowed to play the game on brooms ten feet into the air. I'm sure I'm devastated."

Ron stuck his tongue out.

"And finally," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the Hall again. "I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Allyson scrunched her eyebrows, and a few other students laughed. 'Was that man for real?'

"He's not serious, is he?" Harry asked no one in particular.

"Must be," Percy said with a frown. "That's odd, he usually gives an explanation for new rules. He didn't even bother to tell the prefects about this." he continued, seemingly peeved _he _wasn't told beforehand.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Allyson almost let out a laugh, this man reminded her of her crazy mathematics teacher. When she looked the other teachers' over she noticed that their smiles had become rather fixed. 'Yep, definitely like her maths teacher!'

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he were trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick out your favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!

The cacophony was deafening as the entire school bellowed:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something, please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now, they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

Everyone finished the song at a different time. At last, only Fred and George were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand, and when they finished, he was one of those who clapped the loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic, beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime! Off you trot!"

The whole hall seemed to come alive. All the houses went to their dorm-rooms. The first years being led by their House prefects. The Gryffindor first years followed Percy Weasley through the chattering crowds; out of the Great hall, and up the marble staircase. Turning right and left; through the labyrinthine passages, up the maze of stairs to finally appear onto the 7th floor corridor. They came to a halt in front of a large painting, with a fat lady dressed in a pink silken dress, one would probably find on a prima donna girl.

"This is the entrance to the Gryffindor common room." Percy said slowly. "The password is 'Caput Draconis'." The fat lady moved in her frame, nodded to the first years and the portrait hole swung open.

"Really, everything moves, appears and disappears here!" Allyson mumbled to Harry, who seemed too stunned to give a response; so he just nodded.

They all climbed through the portrait hole — Neville needed a hand — and stepped into the Common room.

The Common room was a cosy circular space, decorated in the house colours red and gold. The walls had several scarlet tapestries which depicted famous witches and wizards. Filled with Squashy armchairs, small tables, and a bulletin board where lining on one wall, the room was almost too crowded.

A window on the left looked out on the school grounds, and a large fireplace in the centre of the room dominated one wall.

"Dormitories are this way," a prefect girl explained, earning a displeased from Percy. Smiling at a quivering Neville Longbottom the girl led the first years to two spiral staircases. "Boys take the right and girls take the left."

While climbing the stairs, Allyson recalled that the staircases to the girls' dormitories where enchanted to keep unwanted company, in the forms of teenage boys, out. But not vice versa; since it was deemed that girls were more trustworthy than boys. Giving a small snort, she shook her head. It seemed to her, that wizards were quite old fashioned.

"First years' dormitories are down here." The girl said.

The girls nodded. Hermione Granger, being the most excited, walked on the front, while Allyson kept her pace down.

"I'm quite nervous for tomorrow." Chrissa said, rubbing her hands. "What subject are you looking forward to the most?" she asked.

Allyson was silent for a moment. "Transfigurations, I suppose. It sounds really interesting to change objects around you with just a flick of your wrist."

"I suppose so," Chrissa started thoughtfully, "but also a handful. I've heard, it's one of the most difficult subjects there is."

Allyson nodded. "I'm more worried about potions though. If it is anything like cooking, I'll suck at it."

That last statement caused the girls to laugh. As they reached the end, they saw a bronze plaque reading; 'First Years'. Pushing it open Allyson hoped to find her bed.

It was a rather large room with 6 four poster-beds. The dorm room was equipped with a centrally located stove, and each student got their own four poster bed; flanked by a set of windows and some space for storing belongings. On the windowsill, was a water jug placed; apparently in case any of the students should feel the need for a drink in the middle of the night.

After spotting her bed, Allyson pulled on her pyjama and slumped down with a sigh.

"Shouldn't you brush your teeth?" A voice interrupted her nice and warm meeting with her bed. Allyson opened one eye, and saw Hermione Granger standing at the foot of her bed.

Moaning, slightly annoyed, she propped herself up on her elbows and picked her wand up from her desk.

"I'll just use a spell. Just as effective; and much faster!" She really didn't feel like unpacking. Tomorrow was early enough.

"Oh, really? Which one?" Grangers voice sounded excited.

"Scourgify, which cleans practically everything" Allyson explained tiredly, rubbing her eyes. "Or 'Tergeo', which is more used to siphons material from a surface." Allyson added as an afterthought, already deciding on the first option. She slowly made the indication with her wand, pointed at her mouth and muttered: "Scourgify."

"I see." The girl seemed to be conflicted. Allyson noticed her eyes flitting to the edge of Allyson's bed and realised she was probably wondering if she should sit down or not. No matter how tired she was, there was no need for any hostility.

Sitting up, the girl opposite of her plopped down happily.

"So, You've been reading up on the subjects as well?"

"Yes, but I thought it to be wiser to only read the books, as my parents didn't appreciate the floating furniture." They both chuckled.

Allyson remembered her parents' initial reaction. Her father almost chocked on his morning coffee, when he came into the living room and she had been practicing the levitation spell and the incendio charm, which had set the, no longer used, fireplace on fire.

She had to promise to not use such spells in her home, ever again. And she kept her promise — When her parents were home…

"My parents don't really understand. I tried to explain, but well, I didn't really either." The bushy-haired girl said. Allyson nodded.

The second trip to Diagon Ally had been similar. Her parents had acted like tourists, who didn't get anything about the new and excited world introduced to them. Allyson had stopped trying to explain. It was no use.

"Let me introduce myself formally. I'm Hermione Granger." Granger said, while offering her hand.

"Allyson Gilbert, it's a pleasure." Allyson said, while shaking hands.

"Right, girls, not that we're not happy you two are bonding, but we really want to sleep!" a voice boomed through the room. A girl with shoulder length brown hair, clad in her pyjama's stomped over to her bed. 'Lavender Brown', Allyson remembered.

One of the Patil sisters, Parvati ran grinning after the girl, and unceremoniously threw herself on her bed.

"Right, perhaps we should call it a day and try to sleep." Allyson said.

Hermione nodded, and walked over to her own bed. Allyson crawled under the covers, and closed her eyes. Almost immediately dropping off to sleep. Just before she felt her conscious drift away, a soft voice reached her ears: "Scourgify!"

_To be continued…_

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**A/N: I almost forgot how eager Hermione used to be in the first book and I realised I slightly failed to show that into this story beforehand. Hermione has always been a complex character to me. I think she might have had a inferior complex (especially the first few years) which she hid behind that bossy exterior, but then again who really knows… **


	5. Chapter 4, 142 stairs

**A/N: This chapter was edited 3 August 2016.**

**The chapters only get longer and longer. I really loved all of your nice comments last chapter. I certainly hope there will be more reviews for this one^^**

**Either way, please enjoy the fourth chapter. Are there anymore people who have problems with uploading and editing on this site? For some reason I can't always upload files and when I want to edit my documents the site crashes or something… I don't really understand…**

**Anyway, Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling**

**oOo**

_**Chapter four, 142 stairs**_

**T**he castle stood, surrounded by high trees and a huge iron gate, proud and strong on top of a hill. Small swirls of smoke curling from the turrets dissolved into the twilight. The towering wrought iron gate was overgrown with creepers and creaked open out of their own accord, when a man, clad in dark robes, stepped closer.

Marching past the gates and onto the path, the man waved his hand irritatedly at the light rain. Wet scrubby grass stuck to his dark loafers and the wind raked at his robes.

A watery sun broke through the clouds, but the rain kept drizzling down. He passed a wooden cabin, a dog growled softly but no other creature seemed to mind this man sauntering over the school grounds at such an early time. Perhaps if the creatures knew what was to come they would—

But no one did and quite practically no one cared— Well no one, but one—

Allyson Gilbert woke up early; the birds chirping loudly and her eyelids heavy. Unlike many, the early hours of the day usually didn't bother her and she stretched her arms lazily above her head. She just lay there for some time, watching a watery sun splay out over the ceiling, before changing into her school robes. The common room was completely deserted. Orange embers glowing dimly into the fireplace, while a window stood ajar, filtering a cool breeze inside. Smiling, Allyson plopped down onto a Squashy armchair, before pulling one of her study books out.

The grounds looked peaceful and a small drizzle of rain swept against the windows of the castle. Allyson always liked the soft and rhythmic sound rain would bring; thudding onto the transparent vast surface of glass.

As the watery sun broke through the clouds again, Allyson frowned. A dark figure, robes billowing in the wind, crossed over the grass field. The figure was holding onto his hood with one pale hand as the wind mercilessly tugged at it. Allyson deducted _he _was probably male, as he was tall and broad shouldered. She squinted her eyes, while trying to see the person's face, but before she could see anything he disappeared from view.

With her forehead still pressed against the cool window, Ron and Harry came down the stairs.

"Morning!" Harry greeted her.

Allyson gave him a small smile, before jerking up to a standing position. Seeing a man stalk over the grounds wasn't such a strange thing, but for some reason it felt odd. Packing her bag, she met up with the two boys at the common room entrance.

"What were you looking at?" Ron asked.

"I have no idea." Allyson muttered, looking around the corridor. Everything looked alike and she wondered how long it would take before she would know her way around.

The first week passed by in a blur of classes and exploring the castle. The subjects were wonderful and, although settling in took some getting used to. The castle, which looked already huge from the outside, was even larger from the inside. There were seven upper floors, a few towers and more turrets than Allyson could've counted. Navigating oneself between classes proved to be challenging as staircases had the tendency to move — a splendid idea of Rowena Ravenclaw — and it was less than pleasant when they did so while you were ascending or descending them.

As if finding their classes wasn't enough of a challenge, everywhere the three friends went, they were followed by whispers. Followed by speculations and followed by pointed fingers.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Allyson snapped as yet another boy gasped and pointed at Harry's scar. "Don't you lot have an ounce of subtly into your body?"

Clearly taking aback by the display of pure hostility the boy stuttered. He was older than Allyson, but she couldn't find it in her to care.

"Yes," she snapped, as Harry tried to usher her away. "You are quite right. That's Harry Potter, very clever of you! And shall I indulge to you a little secret? He breathes oxygen just like you do _and_ once in a while he actually reads a book just like the rest of the student body! Now that you know this, leave him alone." She hissed; Harry finally succeeding into dragging her away.

Ron smirked. "That was brilliant. You are brilliant."

"Thanks, Ron." Allyson answered, glowering at the stunned boy they left behind.

"Are you always this impatient?" Harry asked seriously, but couldn't quite hide the small smile.

"Yes, you better get used to it." She dryly explained. "You're stuck with me now."

Clucking his tongue, Harry shrugged, while Ron gave her an impressed look. "You are nothing like the girls I've met before—" he said wishfully and Allyson wondered exactly what kind of girls Ron had met before.

The lessons were filled with theory and even the simplest of spells were bound to rules, correct wand movement and the correct pronunciation. The first years had seven core-subjects, which they could choose to pursue more thoroughly after fifth year; Herbology, which was given in the Greenhouses, Charms, given by Professor Flitwick and History of Magic, which was the most boring subject one could encounter. In addition, they had Astronomy, which was given by Professor Sinistra, Transfigurations, given by the strict Professor McGonagall, and Potions, given by Professor Snape; Head of Slytherin House.

Of all the subjects, Allyson disliked Astronomy the most. It wasn't necessarily uninteresting, as Professor Sinistra had a way to make her subject come alive. It was just the late hour that annoyed Allyson. It was held every Wednesday at midnight in the tallest Tower of the castle and the students had to take notes on the positions and movements of the planets and the constellations. Allyson failed to see much as her eyes kept drooping closed and she had to rely on Harry and Ron how the stars looked. Thankfully there were plenty of books she could browse through, or else she would probably fail the subject drastically.

Herbology was given in the Greenhouses by Professor Sprout and had everything to do with the magical substances of plants. Professor Sprout was barely taller than Allyson, had greying curly hair and wore an apron whenever she had to deal with her _babies_. Allyson supposed it was magic that the plants did actually seem to straighten in their pots whenever she entered the Greenhouse.

History of Magic was the only subject given by a ghost and lulled even the most attentive people to sleep. Professor Binns had been very old indeed, when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on in his monotone voice, while the students scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Allyson learnt more from her other study books than from Binns' himself, but she was able to follow his lessons mostly because of Hermione's willingness to help.

Professor Flitwick, who appeared to be the head of Ravenclaw house, taught in charms and was indeed a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. The first lessons were spent pouring over their texts; covering the basic principles of enchanting objects and the 'levitation spell'.

In the early afternoon the students were free to participate in long strolls over the grounds and enjoy a nice meal in the Great Hall. Just like dinner and breakfast lunch was great and the boys used it as some kind of 'stuff your face with everything you can get your hands on' moment. Which was vaguely amusing…

Ron didn't seem to have been taught any form of etiquette, and really resembled a wild animal during feeding time.

During Transfigurations it became even more clear that Professor McGonagall wasn't a teacher to cross. Except form having a lethal sarcastic streak she was very strict and clever. When they stepped into her classroom; she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down at their desks.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone caught fooling around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again, while her students gasped and clapped their hands enthusiastically. The second the woman had refreshed the spell with a careless flick of her wrist, Transfigurations became Allyson's most favourite class. It was a pity they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals anytime soon.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match to turn into a needle. Hermione Granger seemed to be just as studious, if not more, as Allyson, and at the end of the lesson Allyson had managed to give it the look of a needle — although it wasn't yet capable to penetrate the skin — and Hermione had managed to make the match silver and pointier. They were treated with a rare smile.

Then there was Defence Against the Dark Arts; a class everyone was looking forward to, but which was not one you should take seriously. Professor Quirrell's classroom smelled strongly of garlic, and according to the Professor the garlic was to ward off a Romanian vampire. Allyson wasn't sure if she should believe that. He seemed awfully eccentric, but didn't look like he could hurt a fly, much less a dangerous vampire.

His turban he got from a Persian Prince, as a gift for rescuing the prince from a troublesome Zombie. _Had he accidentally apparated on the spot the zombie had been standing on, involuntarily saving the prince?_

And if he wasn't eccentric enough there was a distinct smell coming of him, which Allyson couldn't quite place, whenever the man walked by the tables. According to the Weasley twins Professor Quirrell stuffed his turban with garlic as well, so he would be protected everywhere.

"He's a bit weird," Fred Weasley explained, as Allyson sat in the common room one evening; browsing through her Transfigurations book.

"That's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Allyson dryly remarked, running a hand through her tousled hair.

"It has something to do with the job," Fred started joyfully

When Friday came, and according to Harry and Ron a brief but glorious moment in their school history, the boys found the Great Hall without getting lost in the castle. A dark grey blanket of clouds stretched over the castle. Allyson was not looking forward to that particular day. An ominous feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach and she flipped tiredly through the pages of her Potions book ('_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_'). They had a double lesson of potions in the dungeons together with the Slytherins, and from what Allyson had heard, those weren't much fun.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Ally!" Came the soothing voice of Hermione Granger, as she took a seat beside Allyson. Ron didn't look pleased.

"I doubt it." Allyson answered. "Well, as long as we keep ourselves to the theory only, there should be no problem." She muttered as an afterthought, while she glanced sideways the page about Antidotes to Common Poisons over. Apparently there were a few objects that reversed the effects of common poisons; like a Bezoar, Mistletoe Berries, and Unicorn Horns.

The problem, what did they see as 'common poisons'?

She signed and closed the book with a thud. Her breakfast lay untouched on her plate, as she stuffed the book in her schoolbag. Though it was not a long distance to cross, the slippery stairs demanded both exertion and caution. The stairs rounded a steep drop near the end and the temperature dropped.

"I'm afraid that this won't be a neat lesson, no matter what I learnt." Harry complained. "The way Professor Snape looked at me, seemed unpleasant, to say the least."

It was shivering cold, and Allyson immediately regretted not putting on something warmer. The dungeons were dark, the torches on the wall barely gave off enough light. The floor was slippery and the cinderblock walls had a soft sheen of green moss covering them.

As if the classroom wasn't already creepy enough there were pickled animals floating in glass jars. Allyson shivered. Harry and Ron, followed closely by Hermione, already stepped into the classroom.

Sighing, she hitched her schoolbag higher on her shoulder. There was a small ripping sound, which indicated her bag refusing service, and the handle of her bag snapped, sprawling all her books over the ground.

"Shite," Allyson hissed, glaring at her books splayed onto the stone floor. She wasn't stupid; she knew she stuffed too many books into her bag, but still—

Crouching down onto the floor, she started gathering her stuff, while trying to ignore the burning stares of her classmates. She heard some students snicker, as they stepped over and around her, but she didn't bother looking up who it was.

Growing frustrated she snarled. It wouldn't do, if she had to carry all of her books in her arms; so taking out her wand she waved it and softly muttered: "Reparo."

The handle immediately knitted itself back to the bag. Pushing her books back into the bag, she threw the handle over her shoulder and hastily made her way into the classroom. Professor Snape was a tall man, with shoulder length black greasy hair and dark eyes. He was standing in front of the room; a scroll in his hands. Allyson realised with an unpleasant tingle she had interrupted his speech; he was just in the middle of a roll call, and Allyson slipped into the room as quietly as possible. His dark eyes, flitted through the room, when the door closed with an audible thud.

His lips drew back into a sneer, and his eyebrows rose. Allyson reddened, inching towards an empty seat.

"I'm sorry Professor, the handle of my bag broke." Allyson stuttered.

"And you are?" Snape asked, his voice powerful. He walked up to the end of the classroom, his robes whipping around him.

"Allyson sir. Allyson Gilbert." She answered dutifully. Behind the tall imposing man, she saw Draco Malfoy sniggering, his cronies one seat before him grinning as well.

"Well, Miss Gilbert, you just lost your House ten points." Snape said, his beady black eyes looking down menacingly at her. Allyson bit her lip. "Do take a seat."

She nodded, and was about to take a seat next to Neville, when the potions master shook his head. "Not there, Miss Gilbert. Why don't you sit down next to Mister Malfoy, that way you won't cause another disruption!"

Scowling she stomped over to where Malfoy was seated. The blond was shaking, the corners of his lips tugged up. He was obviously had a hard time to contain his laughter. Professor Snape strode back to the front of the class, and whipped around.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He started. Snape spoke in a whisper, but they still understood every word — just like Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape could effortlessly keep order. Unlike Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape did not only freeze the students he did also scare a large percentage of the students; mainly the quivering Neville Longbottom.

"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses— I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

After his speech a deep silence followed. Allyson soundlessly took out her quill, parchment and her potions book. Malfoy's elbow collided a few times with hers, as he too took out his potions book and Allyson tried not to entertain the thought, that he was doing so on purpose. However, after the third time having to rewrite the same sentence, it became harder.

Professor Snape's gaze flitted through the classroom. His gaze fell on Harry and Ron, seated in the third row from the front. "Potter!" he snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

Allyson frowned. Weren't those both ingredients for a sleeping draught? Yes, they were. It seemed learning the theory had actually paid off.

Harry had a confused look on his face, and gave a wondrous look to Ron. Hermione's hand shot up. She knew. Then again that on itself wasn't surprising; the girl could suck up information like a sponge.

Harry looked Allyson's way now, their gazes crossed. Rubbing her eyes roughly, she mouthed the word 'sleep' to him.

"Uhm, they induce sleep…" Harry muttered, his answer barely audible.

The boy was momentarily met with silence, as Snape looked almost stunned. Hermione turned around in her seat, surprise evident on her face. And then the suspicion took over. Her gaze slowly flitting towards Allyson. Snape seemed to make the same connection, since he turned slightly to give her a death glare.

"Very well, _Mister_ Potter," he started, eying Allyson angrily. "In someway they do, also known as the Draught of Living Death." He explained. "Well, Mr Potter, another one. Where do you think, should I look as to find a bezoar?" He asked, his tone quipped, before he turned back to Harry.

Allyson didn't know what kind of 'bezoar' he meant, although she supposed he meant the one against 'common potions'. But where to find one…

She knew from her mother, who was a Pharmacist, that bezoars in general could be found in one's stomach. There were various animals who 'formed' them, but Allyson supposed Snape would mean a magical creature and therefore she had no idea.

Malfoy was shaking with laughter. "Nothing to say Miss Potter?"

"Shut up." She hissed, glaring at him. He wasn't threatened in the least, but he didn't respond. His smile broadening when Harry glanced their way.

Ignoring the blond boy next to her, Allyson pointed at her abdomen and mouthed the word 'stomach' to him. His eyebrows furrowed and Allyson repeated the gesture; hoping against hope, he would understand what she meant.

Snape turned around. About to reprimand her, when Harry spoke up:

"I don't know, Sir."

The edges of Snape's mouth lifted up. Showing his yellow teeth. "Well, well, you didn't deem it important to look at the information in your book, Mister Potter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at the older man, but didn't vocally respond.

"Well, let's try it again, shall we?" Snape continued "What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

That Allyson did know; it was the exact same thing. Allyson remembered the subject, shortly being referred to in Herbology and it was mentioned in '_Magical Drafts and Potions_'. It was also known as aconite.

Harry glared angrily at Snape. His eyes flitting to Allyson again. 'The same' she mouthed. Hermione Granger shook her head disapprovingly. Her hand was still up in the air, slightly trembling. As Snape continued to ignore the bushy-haired girl she stood up, fingers almost touching the ceiling.

"I wouldn't know Sir," Harry stated calmly, while his eyes flitted at Hermione. "But I think Hermione knows, so why won't you ask her?" A few students laughed, but Snape didn't appreciate his wit.

"Sit down." He snarled to Hermione, before rounding onto the messy-haired boy with a feral scowl. "For your information, Potter, a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most potions. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

There was a small moment of silence, as most students stared blankly at their Potions Professor. "Well, why aren't you writing this down?" the man snapped.

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Allyson vastly scribbled it down. She put a line under the word; 'bezoar', as to keep in mind to look it up later that day.

Above the noise of scribbling quills Snape said: "And Gryffindor gets one point deducted, because of your big mouth, Potter!"

The rest of the lesson didn't go fluently either. Snape paired up the rest of the class, after which he set them to work on a _simple_ potion to cure boils. He swept around the dungeons in his long black cloak, watching them weight dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticising almost all, but left Allyson alone, seeing she had to work with Malfoy. And apparently Snape liked Malfoy.

Allyson and Malfoy had efficiently divided their duties. Allyson chopped the horned slugs into bits, while Malfoy stirred the potion, which was bubbling happily above the fire. She had to admit, he had a feeling for potions.

As he dropped the horned slugs in the cauldron Professor Snape passed by. He called on the class, to observe the perfect way that Malfoy had stewed their horned slugs. Just as the students were standing up to come over, green clouds of acid smoke and loud hissing sounds filled the dungeon.

Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron, who had partnered up with him, into a twisted blob, and the potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. In a few seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools. Neville, who had been drenched in the hot potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned from the pain. On his arms and legs angry red boils appeared.

"You Idiot!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I take it, you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered softly, as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing!" Snape spat to Seamus, then he turned to Harry and Ron, who had been on the same bench as Neville.

"You there — Potter! Why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? You thought such an obvious mistake would make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That'll cost Gryffindor House another point deduction." Snape all but hissed.

Allyson bristled, but didn't say anything. How were Harry and Ron to be responsible for Neville's action? That was totally uncalled for. Allyson saw Harry open his mouth to protest, but she saw Ron kick him from under the table. "Let it lie!" Ron muttered. "I've heard, you'd better keep Snape at your good side!"

When they left the dungeons one hour later, Harry looked absolutely moody. Allyson adjusted the straps of her bag, while smiling sympathetically at him. She caught Ron's wandering eyes and she gave him a meaningful glance.

"Come on, man." Ron said, patting his friend on his back. "Snape deducts points from Fred and George too. It's practically tradition."

There was a small silence after that, in which the three friends climbed the stairs.

"Now that I think of it, can I come along to Hagrid?" Ron asked, seeming very eager ti meet the huge man.

Harry nodded, "Sure, why not."

"Oh, you're going to Hagrid? Give him my best!" Allyson said. "I think I'm going to see how far I can get with my homework." Both boys gave her a blank stare. Ron shook his head.

"There is a life outside of school! You do realise that, don't you?" Ron asked.

"Of course I do, but I'm afraid my parents don't. Thereby, I'm hoping to finish my homework early, so I won't have to do it all in the weekend." she said, hoisting her bag up.

"All right, see you at dinner." Harry mumbled, giving a longing glance to the green grounds outside.

"Okay," Allyson yelled, before turning around and made her way up the winding staircases towards the library. As she stepped out onto the third floor corridor, she wasn't surprised to see it practically deserted. Allyson supposed that was because of the _forbidden_ _corridor_, which ensured certain horrible death if one came too close to it. Allyson rolled her eyes. They should have tried that particular sentence when trying to keep Muggle High school children away from the supermarket during classes.

Stretching her arms above her head she skipped through the hallway. The corridors were damp from humidity and Allyson heard the rain pelt off the large windows. Allyson smiled wishfully. She enjoyed the sound of the rain.

The library was equally deserted and the sound of the rain thudding against the walls and windows was also clearly audible in the of parchment smelling room. Ten of thousands of books on thousands of shelves. Allyson really loved the library. Allyson had always liked books and used to visit the library back home very often. Even though that library was a lot smaller than the Hogwarts library.

Allyson smiled and navigated herself to the right section at the back. As she traced her finger over their spines, she easily located the book she was looking for: 'Defensive Magical Theory - by Wilbert Slinkhard'.

Waving at Madam Pince, who appeared to be getting used to her, Allyson sat down at one of the tables located by a window. Rummaging through her bag she got out quill and parchment.

An hour later she was deeply engrossed in her book, scribbling down answers and spells. She was half aware of a chair being pulled back at her table, but wasn't too concerned about it.

The next thing she knew a book bag was unceremoniously thrown at her table.

Looking up, she stared right in the face of Draco Malfoy.

"You're sitting at my table!" he hissed.

Allyson blinked. Allyson stared. Allyson gaped. "Come again?"

He ran his hand through his hair, sat down and sassily said: "This is the table I use for studying and now you're… occupying it." He became silent for a moment.

"And to add to that, you're in the way." He drawled.

"Ehm, Malfoy, no offence, but just because you use this table so now and then, doesn't make it yours. And really, I wouldn't mind if you wish to use it too, but if I offend you, then I suggest you find yourself a different table to sit." She said, pulling her book out from under his bag, and situated it next to her right hand.

"Doesn't make it mine? With the donation _my_ _Father_ makes, it could as well be." He snapped back.

She scrunched her eyebrows. What was wrong with this boy? "I didn't know one could buy himself a place in the library. More over, I think it would show some character if you'd be able to share _once_ in a while." She huffed. The '_spoiled rich kid_' part left hanging in the air.

"Are you implying, I can't share?" He said, dangerously low.

She gave him a blank look, and rolled her eyes. "Whatever else did you think I was implying?"

He snorted, pulled a chair back and sat down with a thud. "I can share, thank you very much!" He declared, pulling a book out of his back.

Allyson hid her smile behind her book. Dealing with boys was no different from dealing with little children. He really did resemble a little child. The way he sat on his chair, pout on his face and _reading_ a book.

As the sun sank lower in the sky and the light drained away while twilight settled over the ground. Allyson just finished her transfiguration homework. Malfoy hadn't opened his mouth again and kept to himself while reading his book.

In the distance she could hear hurried footsteps coming nearer, but Allyson wasn't worried in the slightest.

"What if she isn't there anymore Harry? It is time for dinner, she might as well have left to eat." Ron's voice reached her ears. Allyson softly let out a sigh and tapped her quill inaudible on her ink bottle.

"Then we'll go to the Great hall, after we make sure she isn't still studying." A slightly annoyed Harry answered.

With eyebrows furrowed, she packed her things and left Malfoy to his own devices with a small nod in his direction. It wouldn't do to have him exchange insults with Harry and Ron _again_. Thereby, she wanted to stay welcome in the library and having three boys screaming to each other, probably wasn't going to work in her favour. Allyson glanced at the strict Liberian. Yes, screaming would alert Madam Pince. And she had threatened students for less with complete banishment till sixth year.

As she rounded the corner the two boys almost ran into her.

"Ah, Ally, we were looking for you!" Her unruly haired friend said.

"I know; I heard you coming." She said, pursing her lips. Hell, probably everyone in the library heard them coming…

"Is there something wrong?" Allyson asked, noticing their sullen faces. Ron glanced around the library impassively while Harry seemed to be too excited to even care where he was.

"There was a break-in at Gringotts, the bank ran by Goblins, on Harry's birthday." Ron said, scratching his head.

Allyson nodded, leading them out into the cool corridors. "I know, Hermione told me. It was in the paper this morning. I don't know everything, but I don't think anyone was arrested nor were there any leads to the culprit." She was silent for a moment. "Why is that important, I thought nothing was taken?"

Harry grabbed both her and Ron by their upper arms and dragged them into an empty classroom, after which he closed the door. A window stood ajar, ruffling the stack of foxed parchment on the teachers' desk. The walls were light with dark stains where they angled into the ceiling and candles provided light in the claustrophobic silence.

Allyson couldn't handle the suspense anymore. "What's going on?"

"When Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, we visited Gringotts." Harry explained, his eyes flitting through the room. "He emptied vault seven hundred thirteen the same day as that break-in. Nothing special, if you ask me. A small grubby little package." Harry said. "But it was really weird. I know there's something going on and Hagrid knows something, but he wasn't talking."

"What do you recon, was in the package?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, but whatever it was, it's probably now somewhere at school."

"Why do you think that? Hagrid might as well have hidden it somewhere on the grounds. From what I understood, he knows this place better that anyone." Allyson said, taking a seat at one of the desks lining the wall.

"Because Hagrid had to get the package for Professor Dumbledore." Harry explained. "If Dumbledore wants it, don't you think it is quite important?"

"And important things are not kept on the grounds." Allyson finished for him. "I suppose you have a point."

Allyson crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her head against the wall behind her. 'A small grubby little package' could be taken anywhere. Allyson supposed the teachers didn't stay 24/7 at school, but why not bring the item here, where Dumbledore could watch over it. Not to mention what was small and worth to rob a bank for? The silence in the classroom fell heavy on her skin. Her fingers were getting numb from the autumnal air that crept through the open window. The soft drizzling of the rain was clearly audible in the silence which had settled over the three friends.

"So—" Allyson started, not sure what she should say.

"Recon we should try and find out what it is?" Ron asked. Allyson frowned

"I think so," Harry began. "If they hide it somewhere in this school, the people searching for it, might try and come here!"

"I do think it is well protected, when it is at school." Allyson explained thoughtfully. "Don't you think we putting extra attention on it, if we are to search for it?"

"I don't know." Harry murmured.

Allyson glanced outside. Small pellets of water splattered against the window and dripped towards the ground, several feet below, making strange twisting lines. The water of the black lake rippled with the drizzle and the strong wind pulled and pushing at the blades of grass and the leaves. The trees in the north swung softly and Allyson remembered the strange hooded figure stalking over the grounds on those early hours a few days ago.

Unknown as to why, she shivered—

_To be continued…._


	6. Chapter 5, flying lessons

**A/N: A bit later then I originally expected. I suppose I can only say that life interfered; which is sometimes the occasion. Another reason is the nice little holiday abroad where they didn't have any wifi (or at least no free wifi), which made updating a tad more difficult. Anyway; please enjoy chapter six. **

**Do comment. I love to read all of your thoughts. **

**Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to J.K. Rowling**

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oOo

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_**Chapter five, Flying lessons**_

**T**he next few weeks passed by more busily than any time of Allyson's life so far. The lessons were vastly developing, and Allyson found an unlikely enjoyment in defence against the dark arts. She seemed to have a knick for it, earning Gryffindor House quite some points. Fair enough Quirrell was the strangest teacher — human being by Allyson's standards — the students had ever met, but his subject was interesting. So was transfigurations, which had quickly become her favourite subject. After getting a hundred percent for the test at the end of September, right after she and Hermione celebrated the older girl's birthday, Allyson was sure this year was one of the best school years she ever had.

Muggle school had been devastatingly boring, never mind all the bullying and unchallenging subjects. Allyson hated Muggle school. So much actually that her parents had left the country — they had been living in Germany — and moved to Great Britain. Her parents had never told Allyson why they truly moved away. She supposed she didn't really care. Hogwarts was more challenging than Muggle school had ever been. Of course the weeks passed in a blur of not only magic, but also reading books, writing essays and exploring the castle with Harry and Ron.

She did her homework together with Hermione and had to defend the bushy-haired girl against Ron more than once. It was very tiring. Harry wasn't to fond of her either, but mostly kept his opinion to himself.

Then there was, of course, still Hagrid, who kept something from them. They had speculated, looked in the library for clues and even interrogated some of the ghosts, but so far without any luck. It was of course quite hard to look for something unknown! Allyson suspected '_it'_ — whatever it was — was hidden in the forbidden corridor on the third floor.

To top it off, there was Draco Malfoy; who seemed to take an uncanny pleasure in harassing Harry and Ron — or 'Potthead and Weaselbee', as he liked to call them — whenever they '_met_' each other in the corridors.

Harry and Malfoy had been enemies since the train ride to Hogwarts. According to Harry, '_the git_' was vastly moving up his list of hated people.

'Who had a list of hated people?' Allyson silently wondered, as she followed Harry and Ron, while flipping through a book. Her hair was pulled up into a messy knot atop of her head. Her skirt swished by her legs, crumpled from the day studying.

"Hey Gilbert, who of those two, you're actually dating?" Malfoy's voice echoed through the high corridor.

Harry and Ron bristled, but Allyson really wasn't faced. Muggle school had been much worse. The other children really used to terrorise her. Allyson shook her head, punching Harry softly against his shoulder. "No one cares, come on. I don't want to be late."

Still, that she didn't care, didn't mean she liked it much. Allyson was quite happy the first year Gryffindors only shared Potions with the Slytherins, so they wouldn't have to put up with those insults all the time. Or at least they didn't have to, until they spotted the notice pinned up the bulletin board in the common room the next morning. They'd start flying lessons upcoming Thursday; together with the Slytherins.

Allyson exhaled loudly. She was not looking forward to it.

The approach of this _flying_ class was heavily anticipated by the students, who all told the most exaggerated tales of past flying achievements. So did Ron tell everyone who would listen, and even those who really didn't want to, how he hit a hanglider with Charlie's old broom. If you had to believe Finnigan, he practically lived on a broom, during his childhood. And Neville, well Neville wondered if his gran would kill him if he came near one, or that the broom would do the job.

Even Malfoy forgot their self proclaimed 'enemyship', in favour of telling her everything about flying — which she didn't really mind, seeing the idea of climbing up a stick; which would take her up fifty feet in the air didn't really sound that great.

One couldn't prepare for flying on a broom by reading a book or by practicing in an unused classroom. It was just like any other sport, one must practice it, and sometimes one had feeling for it. Allyson doubted she would have any '_feeling_' for it…

That didn't stop her and Harry to read '_Quidditch Through The Ages_' a bunch of times, trying to find as many facts to latch onto as they could.

Thursday morning came all too soon. The sun was filtering gently through the windows, creating halos on the wall and illuminated the little dust specks swirling into the air. The students were eating breakfast, or attempted to in Allyson Gilbert's case, and an excited murmur was buzzing around them.

"—So then you kick off— that's the most amazing feeling you know? And you are airborne." Ron explained, shovelling another fork smashed potatoes away. "You know?" he asked, with a mouthful of potatoes and eggs, "there is something quite unreal about flying—"

Allyson didn't care if there was. Picking at her scrambled eggs she gave it a disdainful look. Eating was not her top priority right now. The goal of the day; was staying alive. And, when she was at it, not fall, while being 'airborne', and break several bones she would need later on in life.

"Ally, want to check out some more books, before throwing ourselves in the lion den?" Hermione Granger asked, breaking through her mental walls.

Allyson nodded, dumping her leftovers on Ron's plate, before smiling at the older girl. "Yeah, that certainly won't hurt."

As she collected her bag and her cape, she placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, who was gloomily flipping through his own copy of Quidditch through the ages. Even though Harry was anticipating this class, she knew he was nervous trying to do something he'd never done before.

"We're going to check out some more books, want to come?" Harry looked up, obviously torn. She knew Ron and Harry didn't exactly like Hermione. They found her too much of a teachers' pet and a 'show-of' as Ron constantly called her.

Allyson couldn't say she really minded. Hermione Granger was pleasant enough to hang and study with; and Allyson greatly appreciated her wit. She had a mean-streak Allyson had not been expecting of such a timid looking girl.

As if to save him from the obvious difficult answer, the post came. Thousands and thousands of owls flew into the great hall, flapping their wings and stirring the still air around them. Allyson wasn't expecting any mail; her parents sent her letters and some necessaries once a week. And they only did that after Allyson sent them an update on her school life — after all they didn't own an owl.

"You don't have to come, if you don't want to." Allyson told Harry who seemed apologetic, but she shrugged. "I see the both of you later."

Waving at Ron, who was too busy scarfing his meal down, Allyson walked up to where Hermione was waiting.

"Is he coming?" the other girl asked. Allyson shook her head, while turning to the Gryffindor table. "He's nervous, but I think he wants to stare at that particular book for the rest of the day." Allyson explained, her eyes flitting to her unruly-haired friend. Hands waving above his head, he explained something to Ron. As the red-head nodded, Harry started to pack his things.

"Or perhaps he won't." Allyson murmured.

Hermione shrugged, shifting her bag on her shoulder and leant against the wall. "Neville got some mail too." she said, although it sounded more like a question.

Neville was holding a glass ball of some kind. It seemed to be filling with something, as he held it above his head, seemingly to examine it.

What ever it was it got the Gryffindor table in a bit of a hub-bub.

It was that exact moment, she spotted a dot of blond, closing in. Hermione seemed to notice it too, "It won't be good, if they start an argument again."

Draco Malfoy, his usual bodyguards trailing after him, stopped at the Gryffindor table. His eyes menacing and a sneer firmly in place. He snatched the glass ball out of Neville's hand, while seemingly examining it.

Harry — who had been half in the progress of leaving — and Ron jumped to their feet, and stepped closer to the blond.

Allyson exhaled loudly, before glancing at Hermione. "That doesn't look good." she murmured, Hermione nodded. "Come on, perhaps we can still mediate the situation."

As the two girls walked back to the Gryffindor table, they saw Professor McGonagall close in from behind her charges. "What's going on here?" she asked, her tone clipped.

Hermione grabbed Allyson by her upper arm, stopping her. Presumably she didn't want any trouble. Allyson saw Neville point at Malfoy. "Malfoy's got my Rememberall, Professor!"

'_A_ _what_?' Scrunching her eyebrows, she gave the glass ball another look.

"Come on, Ally. Professor McGonagall is taking care of the situation now." Hermione whispered, pulling at her upper arm.

Allyson nodded and hitched her schoolbag up. They turned around; Allyson following her bushy-haired friend up the stairs to the third floor, where, at the end of the corridor, the library was located.

They spent a good three hours studying, before Madam Pince shooed them out, for she wanted to have lunch — 'Really this is a library, you can _borrow_ a book!' —

The cool air that dominated in the spacious corridors felt pleasantly against her flushed skin. Pushing her hair up into a messy ponytail, she heading towards the Great Hall. She wasn't hungry, but didn't know where else to go. During lunch, Allyson and Hermione both only played with their food. Hermione didn't say a word and Allyson was wearing a look as if she was going to kill the first one who would mention the word flying again.

After lunch they had charms. As Professor Flitwick sat at his desk Allyson twirled her wand nervously between her fingers. Hermione was flipping through her textbook while trying to finish her assignment.

It was with a heavy feeling when Allyson followed Hermione out on the grounds later that afternoon. The autumn sun was gently streaming down onto the ground; the grass was still moist from the previous rain, letting the small droplets shine invitingly at the passing students.

Shifting her bag, they made their way up the long winding path towards the grass field behind the greenhouses. Allyson slumped down onto the grass, waving her wand over the soft blades and dried the spot on which she was sitting. Yawning, she played with the blades of the grass. The first years had been told, by older years, that the school brooms were practically worthless. To get them even more nervous, apparently some of those got the shakes at high altitude, and others had a constant pull to one side.

At three-thirty that afternoon, the girls crossed the remaining distance across the lawns. Meeting up with the other first-year Gryffindors. The Slytherin first-years were already there. Most of them were happily anticipating the upcoming hour.

Several broomsticks were placed in two neat lines on the ground, as if waiting for their first victim. Allyson felt slightly dizzy.

Her fear of heights, although rational, was annoying. Ever since she fell out of a tree, years ago, she felt very strongly about heights. Well, mostly regarding to high buildings.

Shortly after that, their flying instructor, Madam Hooch, a woman with short grey hair and yellow eyes, similar to those of a hawk, arrived. She was a woman of few words, and immediately barked:

"Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broom. If you're right-handed, stand on the left, otherwise you'll switch. Come on, hurry up!"

Allyson paddled, with obvious reluctance, over to one of the broomsticks. Standing next to Harry, who was practically glowering at his, she stared at the piece of wood. They were indeed really old. The twigs at the end stuck out at odd angles and the dark wood was slightly damaged.

"Hold your wand hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch, at the front, "And say '_Up_'!"

Allyson gave a small sign: "Up."

Nothing happened. It didn't even move. Looking around, she saw that Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once. Ron had some more trouble, as his broom did flew up at the word 'up', but instead of falling into his waiting hand it whacked him in the nose. Malfoy standing across from him, was laughing, broom nicely resting in his hand.

Hermione was having some problems as well. At the word 'up', it only rolled over. Perhaps it noticed, no matter how weird that sounded, when someone actually wanted to fly and when not.

She tried again: "Up." The broom moved, but that was all movement one could see.

"It's not so scary," a grinning Harry began, "You'll just say 'up' loud and clear, and it will obey you!"

At that Ron glowered at Harry's back. Muttering something under his breath he held his hand over his broom again.

"Well?" Harry asked glancing at her unmoving broom expectantly.

"Fine, I give it another shot." She said with a sigh. Honestly, she couldn't care less if she couldn't get this thing to cooperate. If they'd ask for her opinion, she'd tell everyone in earshot, she wished to keep her feet firmly planted on the solid ground.

Exhaling loudly, she shook her head. '_Fine, for the greater good._'

Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she held her right hand over her broom. It was about time she stuffed that fear somewhere it would no longer control her so much. Slowly breathing in she said: "Up!"

The broom shuddered, but indeed came up into her hand. Feeling slightly pleased, she turned to Harry, beaming at him. Ron had also gotten his broom to cooperate with him. Hermione scowled, bent down and pulled the broom up, which earned her a death glare from Madam Hooch.

After a while — Hermione looking less than pleased, with broom in hand — Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. She stopped behind Allyson, and told her she'd been gripping the broom too hard (what did she expect). She glanced at Malfoy, and Harry and Ron looked as if Christmas came early this year, when the teacher told him he had been holding his broom wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch began, "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward."

Allyson threw her leg over the broom. She grimaced when she felt it hold her weight as her feet were slightly pulled of the ground.

"On my whistle," the woman exclaimed, Allyson swallowed tightly.

"— three — two —"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy, seemed to be too horrified of being left alone on the ground and pushed off hard before the whistle even had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up; like a cork shot out of a champagne bottle. Allyson shuddered as she watched the plump boy ascend up in the air. Twelve meters — twenty meters! Neville's face had gotten ghostly white. Allyson's lip trembled. She could only imagine how horrible that must be.

The students moved along with the boy, their faces a mix of glee and worry. Allyson saw Neville gasp, as he looked down at the ground which was rapidly fading away. The crowd simultaneously gulped as the boy in the air lost his grip and slipped sideways off the broom—

He came falling down. His body plummeted towards the ground, his arms flailing around him and his robes billowed around him as if he was a baby bird learning to fly. Neville's face was one of shock and horror— Someone stumbled against her.

Neville's face was no longer visible as part of his robe hid it from view.

"Allyson!"

It took several seconds for Allyson to register that Neville was plummeting down right towards where she was standing. Her mouth slacked open, but she stood as rooted to the spot. When her brain finally registered the immediate danger, she could no longer avoid it. So she did the only sensible thing; she protected her head with her arms.

Just before a stinging pain and after the darkness engulfed her, her mind whispered: _'I really hate heights!'_

0Oo

When the buzzing in her head decreased, Allyson noticed she was laying on the ground. Her head ached and her limbs felt heavy. Somewhere far away she heard murmurs, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She tried to open her eyes, but was only met by darkness.

She couldn't breath… Why couldn't she breath? As she desperately tried to fill her lungs, she became aware of something heavy leaning on her midsection. The murmurs grew louder and she felt the weight being removed. Someone pulled her on her side.

Allyson took in a shuddering breath. Panic slightly lacing her bloodstream as oxygen filled her lungs again. With an ache at the back of her head, Allyson noticed her awareness sharpening, although her mind was cloudy.

Attempting to open her eyes again, she felt as someone put an arm under her knees and around her shoulders; her head lolling against someone's shoulder. She was lifted up, the sharp motion unpleasant.

It must have been one of the students who carried her, for she heard Madam Hooch's voice in the distance. With the swift stride and the swaying of shoulders, Allyson reckoned it must have been a boy. Thereby, she really didn't know a girl — not even the Slytherin girl with the square jaw; Millicent Bullstrode — who could so effortlessly carry another person.

As the adrenaline left her system, Allyson became aware of a bad ache behind her eyelids. While blinking against the darkness, the pain intensified, and she felt something warm run down at the side of her face.

"Don't shake her boy! Go up first, I'll need to look after my class."

She heard the boy mutter something under his breath, and quicken his pace. The late summer wind pulling at them, before the air around them changed to stuffier.

"Just my luck, having you practically shoved under my nose. Bloody Longbottom!" the boy grumbled under his breath, while adjusting her more comfortable against his shoulder. Allyson knew that voice. Then why couldn't she put a name to the person?

His footsteps were loud and swift. As he walked, voices started to reach up.

"What happened to them?"

"Aren't those first years?"

"I believe they had flying lessons today!"

"Perhaps you want to take a picture, that'll last longer!" the boy snapped. Allyson could only imagine how they must look.

The air around them changed again; a warm gust of air slapped her in her face and the strong smell of antiseptics assaulted her nostrils.

Their — his — footsteps sounded hollow into the room and Allyson felt the slight dizziness lessening. She was placed on something soft; most logically a bed, and she heard a woman's shocked voice:

"What in the world happened?"

"A Quidditch accident. Someone flew right into her."

Well, that truly was the short version of events. She heard a soft swish and little by little the pain started to ebb away.

"You can go now, best not to stay away from your lessons."

Allyson shifted on the bed, before opening her eyes. With some serious effort, her eyes fluttered open. Her vision was hazy, but at least it was there. A small woman with blue eyes and greying hair stood crouched over her. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and she seemed worried for Allyson's wellbeing. Madam Pomfrey, Allyson remembered, the school matron. She was strict but nice, according to the upper years.

Allyson blinked slowly and turned her head. She was too late; the boy had already left. She moved over, trying to sit up, but a hand on her shoulder pushed her back.

"Stay still, child. You have some head damage, perhaps a concussion. You'll have to lay still." the Medi-witch explained, as she trudged over to a closet; picking up something from the top shelf.

Her head, although still painfully throbbing, was starting to feel to be part of her body again. She softly slid her hand through her hair. It was tangled and dried and when she brought her hand back for inspection she found it covered in blood. No wonder, she was so light-headed.

The School-matron came back, holding a vial with a dark liquid, "Here, drink this, it should do the trick."

As she gulped the liquid down, she almost choked on it. It was disgusting, but the pain did slightly dim. At that same moment, Madam Hooch came in, holding a crying Neville who was clutching his wrist tightly.

As he locked eyes with her he started to sob hysterically. Big tears rolled over his cheeks and his shoulders shuddered as he whaled he was sorry. Allyson sat up straight — ignoring the annoyed look Madam Pomfrey gave her and the sharp sting of pain — and said:

"It's all right Neville, really, accidents happen." Allyson spluttered, feeling very uncomfortable with the upset boy.

Madam Hooch ushered the boy to a bed, and he sat down on it, still sobbing, although it was slowing down.

"Only a broken wrist," Madam Pomfrey began, "I can mend bones in a second." She pulled out her wand and gave it a small swish. There was a snapping sound — like she broke the bone all over again — and it seemed the bone was mended again.

"Can you move it?" the Medi-witch asked, while bowing down, so they were on the same level. Neville slowly let go of his wrist, and started to rotate and bend it. It seemed to be doing fine.

"Yes, it's feeling fine!"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. She brought herself up to her full height and turned to Madam Hooch, "All right, well Rolanda, everything will be fine. I'll make sure both students will be attended to."

"The girl?"

"Will be fine, she only has a minor concussion by now. If we just let her rest, she will be able to return to her dorm shortly after."

Allyson gaped. She didn't even have to stay the night? That was pleasant. She'd expected to have to stay in a dark room, being shaken awake every hour. And quite possible another few rounds of disgusting potions.

Smiling she settled comfortable into her pillows and closed her eyes. The idea to sleep for a few hours sounded very much desirable.

Madam Pomfrey hadn't been bluffing. Neville could leave after a few minutes — she heard him leave while still hiccuping softly — and Allyson, after getting some dinner at the hospital wing, was allowed to leave at half past eight; just in time to get to the Gryffindor Common room before curfew.

Twilight had settled over the corridors. The torches on the wall were alive and the corridors were empty from students, already in their respective common rooms. Through the windows one could see the downpour of rain against the cool glass and the dark clouds wound towards the castle sedately. The darkness of an upcoming storm making it almost impossible to distinguish anything in the darkness.

As she glanced out over the grounds, shivering when she remembered the brooms, she noticed a black figure moving between the trees at the edge of the forest-line. The wind howled and Allyson squinted her eyes to sharpen the figure in the distance.

'_Who in their right mind was out there at this hour and with this weather?_'

Thunder struck and for a moment the sky was lighted up. The figure illuminated as well, but Allyson could not make out who it was from the distance. The strange red hue over his face she could distinguish and she felt goose pebbles break out over her flesh. As she looked at the figures face, Allyson just knew the figure was staring back and she gasped.

Swallowing she pushed herself away from the window and jogged the last remaining few stairs towards the seventh floor. As she stepped into the common room, she was almost tackled by Harry and Ron.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, waving his hand in front of her face, as if to check if her vision was adequate.

"Didn't he hurt you?" Ron

"Hurt me? No, _he _didn't." Allyson answered Ron, before turning to Harry with a frown. "And Madam Pomfrey healed me in record time." She said.

Ron nodded, before beckoning to a few seats into the shadows. They were the farthest from the fire. As they sat down, both boys started to talk excitedly. Their voices hushed, and their speech erratic.

"Okay, guys, my head." Allyson interrupted swiftly. "It might be healed, but it isn't ready for— _this_."

"You never guess, who we're going to duel tonight at midnight!" Ron whispered exited, shifting in his seat.

Harry rolled his eyes, and said: "Yeah, Malfoy challenged us,"

Allyson pursed her lips, "Well, I'm sure I never would have guessed." she drawled sarcastically.

Sticking out his tongue, Ron huffed. "One way to bring down the surprise effect."

Allyson chuckled. "It isn't like I wouldn't have guessed, after all, if you're fighting, it's with Malfoy." she pulled a lock of hair behind her ear. "What I don't get is the midnight thing. I'm pretty sure we're not allowed out of the Common room after nine o'clock."

"We know," Harry answered.

"So you aren't idiotic." Allyson said, in her best McGonagall voice. "If you two are caught, you'll be in serious trouble."

"Gee, you sound like Granger!" Ron said, scowling.

Allyson rolled her eyes, "But a duel? Like a Wizarding duel? Do I need to start planning a funeral?"

Harry winched slightly at the word 'funeral', and also turned to Ron with a frown.

"What?" Allyson asked amused. "A real Wizarding duel continues until one dies." she drawled. "Of course this is a duel three between eleven-year-olds, but still."

"Indeed, so we don't have to worry. It's unlikely that we could do more than just bruise each other a bit. And if it goes wrong, one of us just punches Malfoy in the face." Ron said, shrugging casually.

"Hm, okay." Allyson muttered. "I don't really think it's such a splendid idea, but okay…"

"How did he treat you?" Harry asked, shifting in his seat.

"Huh, what?" Allyson asked. "How did _who_ treat me?"

"MALFOY!" The boys exclaimed in union, staring at her with obvious surprise. Their loud outburst attracting the attention from various students in the common room. Her be-blooded forehead did the rest. Percy the prefect closed in on them with large steps.

"Did Malfoy do that to you?" he asked in haughty disdain. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at her bloodied forehead. "Because if he did he should be disciplined for it." he continued venomously.

It shouldn't be a surprise that the oldest Weasley disliked the blond too. The Weasley's and the Malfoy's seemed to be opposites in every way of the word.

"Uh, no. This," Allyson pointed to her forehead, "is the result of a flying accident." she said, deliberately repeating Malfoy's easy explanation of today's events. "Which, for the record, I'll never be doing again!"

Percy arched an eyebrow. He didn't seem convinced, but as someone at the other side of the room called for him, he still left the three first-years alone. The other students kept staring though, speculating what exactly happened during that _flying_ _accident_. It was quite annoying.

To make it worse, every time someone pointed at her forehead, Neville started to whimper again. When he seemed to be on the verge of crying again, Allyson pulled out her wand — Ron and Harry shifted uncomfortably in their seats — before pointing it to her own head.

Flicking it carelessly, she muttered, "Tergeo."

It seemed without the dried blood, so visible onto her pale skin, the students found her less interesting. Pulling her knees under her chin, she smiled. "What about Malfoy? As far as I know, he only treated you two nastily today. I've barely seen him." Allyson said.

"Perhaps she has memory loss? Ehm, amnesia!" Ron said, seeming to be slightly impressed.

"He carried you to the hospital wing, after the accident. Well, I suppose you wouldn't remember that. You were completely knocked out." Harry said. "Honestly, at first I thought you were dead!"

Allyson gave them a blank look, "He carried me? Why?"

"We're coming there. That was actually quite funny. When Neville fell, we first thought he would land on Malfoy, he was standing right next to you. But then we realised he was falling towards you." Ron explained and, upon noticing Allyson's annoyed look, smiled apologetic; "Which or course wasn't funny."

"No, I wouldn't think it was funny," she murmured.

"Either way, Malfoy managed to jump away, and Neville slammed into you. Still the git couldn't avoid you bumping into him."

Harry nodded. "Madam Hoogh got Neville off of you, and ordered Malfoy to bring you to the hospital wing. We did volunteer to do so, but she wouldn't have any of it. Said you weren't some doll."

Allyson smiled. "A doll?" She chuckled. "I was already wondering who brought me to the hospital wing, but since I wasn't in my right mind I don't remember much after Neville crashed into me."

They softly chuckled. Frowning Allyson glanced at her hands. She would have to thank Malfoy, even if he was an annoying specimen. Tapping her fingers against her ankle she wondered what place would be best to thank him. It was probably easiest, if she could corner him without his friends around. Perhaps the library; after all she knew which table was '_his_'. She was still wondering which approach would work best, when Ron leant closer to Harry and murmured something into his ear.

"You can punch him in his face yourself." Harry whispered back glancing at Allyson with worried eyes, obviously hoping she wouldn't overhear, but he was in no such luck…

"I really don't think you two should go." Allyson interrupted, before Ron could answer. "Seriously who says Malfoy will even show up? I wouldn't put it past him to just stay in his bed." She fell silent for a moment. "I think I would do so." Allyson said as an afterthought.

"Perhaps she's right, Ron." Harry said. He was the most sensible of the two. Ron huffed but let the subject slide.

When the clock chimed ten, Allyson stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The three friends bode each other farewell, before going off towards their dorm rooms. She had just taken the first step onto the circular stairs, when Ron's hushed voice broke through the silence.

"If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them."

Allyson sighed. So they were still going to that duel tonight. Shaking her head, she climbed up the stairs so she could finally get under the covers of her bed. Although her headache was almost non-existing by now, she felt very tired and her body really needed the rest. When she lay down onto her bed, she fell asleep almost immediately.

_To be continued…_


End file.
